l$F%IS>ZlM^^g^^ 


THE  PRAIRIE  ®JSOE 


iiftfr&iffhmh^ 


ff 


O'&' • 


THE 


PRAIRIE    CRUSOE; 


OR, 


in  %  Jfar 


A  STORY   FOR   BOYS. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


BOSTON  1890 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD    PUBLISHERS 

10  MILK  STREET  NEXT  "THE  OLD  SOUTH  MEETING-HOUSE" 

NEW  YORK  CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM 

718  AND  720  BROADWAY 


Ent«*d.  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  iM6> 

BY  WJE..&   SIIBVARD,    . 
Ii    the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Ufisttiet  CputfX  tfie  pfe^ ;Kct  of  Massachusetts 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

TICK  BATTLK  OF  JENA.  —  A  WOUNDKD  SOLDIER  AND  A  DESERTED 
CHILD.—  THE  ADOPTION.  —  BOYHOOD  OF  OUK  HERO  ..... 


CHAPTER    II. 

WILLIAM     AND    THE    WOLF.  —  THE    BARON    OF    WOLFENSHEIM.  — 

—  WILLIAM'S   EDUCATION     ....................      IS 


CHAPTER    III. 

DEATH   OF  BERCHTOLD.  —  WILLIAM'S     DEPARTURE     FOR    AMERICA. 

THE   GULF  OF  MEXICO.  —  LOST  IN   THE  WOODS  .........      21 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE.  —  LEWIS  THE  TRAPPER.  —  LEWIS'S  ADVICE. 

—  WILLIAM'S  STORY    .......................      2? 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE     INUNDATION.  —  THE     GRISLY     BEAR.  —  SUBSIDING     OF     THE 
WATERS.  —  "  BLACKFEET"  TRACKS  ............... 


M85826 


IV  CONTEXTS. 

CHAPTER     VI. 

LEWIS'S    LONG    SPEECH.  —  A    TERRIBLE     STRUGGLE. —  THE     BEAR 

AND   THE  INDIAN 4t 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  JAGUAR.  — THE  YOUNG  WARRIOR.— THE  JAGUAR'8  PROMISE   51 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  CACHE.  — SKINNING    THE    BEAR. —THE  WILD  HORSES.  — THE 

LASSO.  —  LEWIS'S  TREASURE .      67 

CHAPTER    IX. 

A  TRIP  ON  THE  WATER.  — Til  K  PURSUIT  AND  THE  STRATAGEM  .    .      61 

CHAPTER    X. 

THE  FIGHT.  — LOSS  OF  A   KKIEND.  —  WILLIAM  A    PRISONER.  —  THE 

JAGUAR    AGAIN 77 

CHAPTER    XL 

GRATITUDE  OF  THK  JAGUAR.  —  WILLIAM'S   ESCAPE 85 

CHAPTER    XII. 

BBCAPTUKE.  — THE   RACE   FOR   LIFE  .  .      03 


CO  ML  NTS.  V 

C  II  A  P  T  E  R    XIII. 

THE  CANOE. —THE  KAl'II)  —  THE   DUESS 103 

C  II  A  P  T  E  11    XIV. 

riJUSOE   LIFE. —  Till-;   VALLICY.  — TJIE   BEAVERS Ill 

C  II  A  P  T  E  K     XV. 

THE   BUFFALOES.  — Til  K   \VOUNDK1)    INDIAN 11» 

C  II  A  P  T  E  R     X  V  I. 

ARRIVAL   IN   T1IK   TRIBE.—  THE    GREAT    EAGLE.  — ADOPTION     ...    129 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE  INDIAN   VILLAGE.  —  WILLIAM   A   DOCTOR Ml 

C  II  A  P  T  E  R     XVII  I. 

A   BUFFALO-HUNT.  — THE   ANTELOPES.  — A    PANIC 161 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

A   BATTLE.  — WILLIAM   SAVED   BY   THE   GKKAT   EAGLE 159 

CHAPTER     XX. 

TRIUMPHAL  RETURN.  — THE  FUNERAL 167 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

EXCURSIONS.  —  THE   BUFFALO-KILLER.  —  A   1'RISONER    .......    177 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

HISTORY  OF   LEWIS.  —THE   KIKE.  —  HEROIC   ACT   ..........    180 


CHATTER    XXIII. 

THE  CANADIAN  TRADERS.  —  SEPARATION   ..............    193 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

ARRIVAL  AT  ST.   LOUIS.  —  THE  BULWElt  FAMILY   .......   «».    199 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

HEWS    FROM   GERMANY.  —  VISIT  TO  TllE  AR1CARAS.  —  A  BUFFALO- 
HUNT  ...............................  206 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

MY   PROPOSED  VISIT  TO  NEW  ORLEANS  ..........   *   ....   211 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

COMMENCEMENT  OF  MR.   BULWER'S  STORY    .............   217 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

MK.   BULWKR   AT  HAVANNA.  —  M.   LESSAIX     .  226 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 

LOVE,  PIRACY,  AND  A   LITTLE  KIDNAPPING    ............    « 


C  II  A  P  T  E  11     XXX. 

.HARKS    AND    PIUATKS.-THK    I-UKSUIT.-  THK   DEATH  OF  M.  LES-    ^ 
^AIX   .................... 

CHAPTER    XXXI. 

FAREWELL  TO  LEWIS.  -WILLIAM'S  DEPAKTUUE  FOB   EUROPE.    .    .    2W 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

WILLIAM'S  KETUKN.-T1IK   BAKOS     .................    M 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

WILLIAM'S  F1KST   DAY   AT   1  KKUDENSTADT    .............    * 

CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

267 
WILLIAM'S  LOVE  FOll  BKRTIIA     ........... 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 
WILLIAM'S  MARRIAGE 


the   morning  of  the   14th    Octo- 
|ber,  1806,  Napoleon  occupied  the  pla 
teau  of  Jena,  a  small  town   in   the 
Grand-Duchy  of  S  axe -Weimar;   and 
!  the  sound  of  the  cannon,  from  Cap- 
^  peldorf  to  Awerstadt,  announced  that 
the  giant  of  battles  had  again  thrown 
his   sword  into  the  balance    against 
"the  scale  where  the  fate  of  nations  rested. 


iO'.i  .''•;       \    /  ;    ;T-3K   IfUAiniE   CRUSOE. 


•  J^ftCi*;  m'o/s't'  'prodlgio.u3  '  -efforts,  the  Prussian  army, 
'ffifyttOO'strbng,  \v?»s;de'lea'ted  and  put  to  flight;  leaving 
kjft,000  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  30,000  prisoners  in 
the  hands  of  the  French. 

The  vast  plain  presented  a  horrid  sight:  dead  and 
dying  were  everywhere  heaped  together,  remaining 
from  a  fearful  struggle;  while  the  farms  and  villages, 
which  but  the  day  before  had  been  the  image  of  peace 
and  happiness,  were  now  the  prey  of  devouring 
flames. 

The  action  had  been  most  severe  in  the  vicinity  of 
Holstedt.  This  village  had  been  tnk£n  and  retaken 
several  times,  and  was  now  but  a  heap  of  smoking 
ruins,  through  which  hurried  the  unfortunate  Prus 
sians,  pursued  by  Murat's  victorious  cavalry. 

One  officer,  grievously  wounded,  after  fighting 
bravely,  was  abandoned  by  his  comrades,  and  obliged 
to  seek  refuge  in  the  ruins  of  a  house  which  had 
suffered  severely  from  shot  and  shell,  lie  had  already 
served  with  great  distinction,  and  was  living  in  quiet 
retirement  in  a  small  house  which  he  owned,  when 
hostilities  recommenced.  He  hastened  to  offer  the 
use  of  his  sword  to  his  country;  and,  if  he  did  not 
meet  his  death  on  the  field  of  Jena,  it  was  not  because 
he  did  not  expose  himself  to  danger.  Bcrchtold  (for 
so  he  was  called)  had  just  sat  down  in  the  midst  of 
this  scene  of  devastation,  when  he  heard  the  feeble 


THE   ADOPTION 


cries  of  a  young  child,  apparently  quite  near  him, 
Actuated  by  a  feeling  of  humanity,  he  forgot  his  own 
wounds,  and  directed  his  steps  towards  the  spot 
whence  the  sounds  seemed  to  come,  and  resting 
against  a  half-burnt  wall  of  the  same  ruined  house 
where  he  had  sought  shelter,  and  which  seemed  on 
the  point  of  falling,  found  a  cradle,  and  in  it  a  charm 
ing  little  boy  about  six  or  seven  months  old,  reaching 
out  his  little  arms,  and  calling  his  mother,  who  probably 
had  perished,  unable  to  save  her  child. 

Berchtold,  touched  with  compassion,  hastened  to 
raise  the  child  in  his  arms;  and  a  te:ir  of  joy  stole 
down  the  rugged  cheek  of  the  old  soldier  as  the  little 
one  pulled  his  mustache,  and  a  smile  replaced  the 
tears  which  had  been  occasioned  by  its  infantile  fears. 
Regardless  of  his  own  wounds,  and  finding  a  new 
courage  in  the  very  task  which  Providence  seemed  to 
assign  to  him,  he  snatched  a  coverlid,  which  he 
wrapped  about  the  little  one  as  best  he  could,  and 
started  off,  though  suffering  great  pain,  in  the  direc 
tion  opposite  to  the  field  of  battle. 

He  was  met  by  a  party  of  French  cavalry,  who, 
seeing  his  uniform,  wished  to  detain  him  as  a  prisoner. 
The  officer  in  command  of  the  detachment,  however, 
taking  pity  on  him  and  on  the  little  fellow  whom  he 
carried,  gave  orders  to  let  him  pass  in  safety,  who 
amid  such  carnage  and  desolation,  though  grievously 


12  THE   PHA1IUE   CRUSOE. 

wounded,  exposed  so  freely  his  OAVH  life  and  liberty  to 
preserve  the  existence  of  one  of  God's  creatures. 

Berchtold  thanked  the  French  officer  gratefully,  and 
continued  on  his  way.  At  the  first  village,  he  made 
inquiries  concerning  the  parents  of  the  child;  but  no 
one  could  give  him  any  information.  He  resolved, 
therefore,  to  keep  it  himself  since  he  had  no  family, 
and  was  alone  in  the  world.  Buying  a  goat,  which 
l;e  g  ive  to  William  (as  he  called  his  little  friend)  for 
a  nurse,  he  adopted  him  as  his  own  child. 

He  recovered  speedily  from  his  wounds;  and  when 
peace  was  concluded,  he  was  allowed  to  leave  the  mili 
tary  service  with  a  pension  sufficient  to  keep  him  com 
fortably  the  rest  of  his  days.  So  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  settle  himself  in  the  little  cottage  which  he  owned, 
in  the  kingdom  of  Wurtemberg,  near  the  city  of 
Freudenstadt,  and  not  far  from  the  frontier  of  the 
Duchy  of  Baden.  There  was,  attached  to  the  house, 
a  garden  large  enough  to  produce  all  the  fruits  and 
vegetables  which  he  could  desire;  while  the  close  prox 
imity  of  the  Black  Forest  would  allow  the  little  Wil 
liam,  when  he  increased  in  years,  the  pleasures  of  the 
chase  for  the  development  of  his  physical  strength. 

He  set  out  on  his  journey,  crossed  Bavaria,  and 
reached  Freudenstadt  without  accident;  whence  he 
passed  to  his  home  at  once.  In  a  very  few  days  he 
was  installed,  his  garden  dug,  the  grain  sowed,  the 


THE   AD  )PTTON.  2 

trees  nicely  trimmed,  and  every  thing  in  good,  com 
fortable  shape. 

He  was  now  happy;  for  the  good  action  which  he 
had  performed  occasioned  him  great  satisfaction,  and 
won  the  approval  of  his  conscience. 

Retired  in  his  little  cottage,  and  seeing  very  fc.w 
people  (for  he  was  at  some  distance  from  other  habita 
tions),  he  lived  almost  entirely  with  his  adopted  child 
and  the  goat,  which  seemed  every  day  more  and 
more  attached  to  its  young  charge.  At  the  least  cry, 
the  intelligent  animal  hastened  with  its  rich  milk  to 
appease  little  William.  The  old  soldier  became  daily 
fonder  of  his  little  one,  who  grew  strong  with  his 
increasing  age,  and  soon  began  to  imitate  the  gambols 
of  his  nurse,  and  even  to  say  a  few  words.  The  first 
of  these  more  than  recompensed  the  old  man  for  all 
his  trouble;  and,  when  William  was  able  to  understand 
him,  his  adopted  father  took  him  on  his  knees,  and 
described  all  the  battles  in  which  he  had  taken  part, 
and  all  the  fatigues  which  he  had  endured.  He  spoke 
with  so  much  energy  and  animation,  that  the  child 
was  never  weary  of  listening  to  him.  Hence,  from 
his  tenderest  years,  the  taste  for  an  adventurous  and 
wandering  life  was  formed  in  him,  and  influenced  his 
after-career.  Berchtold  taught  him  to  read  and  write ; 
and  William,  whose  intelligence  and  good-will  were 
equally  great,  made  very  rapid  progress,  so  that  in  a 


14  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

few  years   he  was   almost   as  well  instructed  as  his 
teacher. 

The  latter  also  gave  him  that  true  instruction  of  the 
heart  which  is  the  best  basis  for  every  other.  Honest 
and  loyal  himself,  his  morality  was  simple,  but  very 
correct. 

"William,"  said  he,  "never  utter  an  untruth,  even  to 
save  your  life;  for  an  honest  man  must  never  soil  hia 
lips  by  a  falsehood. 

"  Never  blaspheme  the  name  of  your  Maker. 

"Never  do  any  thing  to  injure  your  neighbor. 

"  In  a  word,  love  and  fear  God,  and  aid  your  neigh 
bor  whenever  you  can. 

"Always  remember,  that,  in  whatever  position  man 
may  be  placed,  a  pure  conscience  is  the  greatest 
wealth  which  he  can  possess;  and  this  no  man  can 
take  from  him." 

With  this  simple  education,  William  reached  his 
twelfth  year.  He  was  stouter  and  stronger  than  are 
most  children  of  that  age,  and  was  endowed  with  a 
courage  which  became  at  times  rash,  and  once,  indeed, 
almost  cost  him  MB  life. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    WOLF.  —  EDUCATION    OF    WILLIAM. 

ONE  winter  morning,  when  he  had  led  out  the  goat 
t )  browse,  his  love  of  adventure  and  curiosity  drew 
him  to  the  very  confines  of  the  Black  Forest ;  but  he 
had  scarcely  passed  within  the  shadows  of  the  snow- 
covered  pines  when  he  was  attracted  by  the  bleatings 
of  his  nurse.  Turning  towards  the  spot  where  she 
stood,  he  saw  her  with  neck  outstretched  and  eyes 
fixed,  while  her  whole  body  trembled  violently.  As 
tonished  at  these  signs  of  fear,  he  hurried  towards 
her,  wondering  what  could  be  the  occasion  of  her 
alarm;  but  he  was  not  long  in  suspense,  as  his  eyes 
fell  on  an  animal,  which,  from  the  description  so  often 
given  by  his  father,  he  knew  to  be  a  wolf. 

At  first,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  William  was 
frightened,  and  stood  motionless;  but  quickly  over- 

15 


"  THE   PRATRTE   CRUSH R. 

coining  his  indecision,  and  knowing  thai  he  was  alone 
to  protect  his  dear  old  friend,  he  advanced  boldly,  and 
placed  himself  between  her  and  the  ferocious  beast. 
The  wolf,  furious  with  hunger,  bared  his  sharp  teeth, 
and  approached  to  spring  upon  the  child.  The  latter 
had  only  a  heavy  oaken  staff  with  which  to  defend 
himself;  but  he  awaited  the  animal  boldly,  and  gave 
him  a  violent  blow  on  the  head.  The  wolf  stag- 
gered,  and  William  profited  by  this  to  repeat  the 
blow:  but  the  ground  was  slippery  with  the  frozen 
suow;  and,  losing  his  balance,  over  he  rolled. 

As  the  wolf  again  rushed  at  him,  he  recalled  the 
instructions  of  his  adopted  father,  and  called  on  Him 
who  never  abandons  the  weak.  God  heard  his  prayer; 
for,  recovering  his  self-possession  as  the  wolf  opened 
his  terrible  fangs  and  he  could  almost  feel  his  hot 
breath  upon  his  cheek,  he  bethought  himself  of  his 
sharp  knife.  In  an  instant,  drawing  it,  he  plunged  it 
into  the  throat  of  the  animal.  The  wolf  retreated  for 
a  moment,  with  a  terrible  howl,  but  then  sprang  at 
him  again.  This  time,  William,  rising  on  his  knees, 
threw  his  left  arm  around  the  neck  of  the  animal,  and 
struck  him  repeatedly  with  his  knife.  For  a  moment 
it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  victor  from  van 
quished,  as  they  rolled  together  in  the  thick  stream 
of  blood  which  escaped  from  the  deep  wounds  of  the 
Bavage  brute. 


THE   WOLF. — EDUCATION   OF   WILLIAM.  17 

At  last,  after  a  short  but  fearful  struggle,  William 
felt  the  embrace  of  the  wolf  diminish,  and  the  horrid 
beast  drew  his  last  breath  in  a  prolonged  howl  of 
agony. 

The  poor  child  was  now  covered  with  blood.  His 
chest  and  his  arms  deeply  wounded  with  the  huge 
teeth  and  claws  of  the  brute,  he  was  too  weak  to  rise. 
He  felt  a  veil  closing  over  his  eyes;  and,  with  his 
thoughts  turned  to  heaven,  he  murmured  the  name 
of  the  God  who  had  hitherto  protected  him,  with  that 
of  his  father,  and  became  senseless. 

The  unfortunate  boy  remained  more  than  two  hours 
on  the  snow,  where  he  would  doubtless  have  died,  if 
the  painful  bleatings  of  his  goat,  which  walked  around 
him,  and  pressed  its  muzzle  into  his  face,  as  if  trying 
to  awake  him,  had  not  attracted  the  attention  of 
several  hunters  who  had  lost  their  way  while  follow 
ing  a  fox.  They  were  glad  to  hear  the  bleatings  of  a 
domestic  animal,  thinking  that  they  could  not  be  far 
from  some  habitation,  where  they  could  learn  the  routo 
which  they  ought  to  follow.  But  what  was  their 
surprise  to  find  a  child,  bathed  in  blood  !  for  Willi.mi 
was  covered  with  what  had  been  lost  by  his  enemy. 
At  first,  they  fancied  that  the  boy  had  been  murdered; 
but,  perceiving  the  dead  wolf,  they  quickly  saw  the 
true  state  of  the  case. 

2 


18  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

One  of  the  hunters,  who  had  some  knowledge  of 
surgery,  examined  the  child's  wounds,  and  decided 
that  they  were  slight,  and  that  he  had  fainted  more 
from  emotion  and'  fatigue  than  from  the  loss  of  blood. 
A  few  drops  of  cordial  sufficed  to  re-animate  William, 
and  put  him  in  a  condition  to  relate  what  had  hap 
pened. 

They  congratulated  him  on  his  good  heart  and  intre 
pidity  ;  and,  as  he  was  too  weak  to  walk  alone,  they 
hastened  to  carry  him  to  Berchtold's  house.  We  will 
not  attempt  to  describe  the  interview  between  Wil- 
liam  and  his  father.  The  poor  man,  while  praising 
him  for  his  courage  and  coolness,  could  not  help  blam 
ing  him  for  his  imprudence.  He  was  happy  to  see  the 
firm  character  of  his  beloved  pupil;  yet  he  trembled 
at  the  thought  that  he  might  have  lost  the  boy,  who 
was  at  once  his  joy  and  consolation. 

This  adventure  decided  William's  future. 

One  of  the  hunters,  the  Baron  of  Wolfensheim,  who 
possessed  a  splendid  castle  about  eight  miles  from 
Berchtold's  cottage,  saw  with  pleasure  that  his  son,  a 
boy  of  thirteen,  who  accompanied  him,  was  attracted 
by  the  courage  which  the  young  peasant  had  shown. 
fie  talked  with  William ;  and  discovering  that  he  had 
excellent  moral  principles,  and  wished  to  acquire  more 
knowledge,  he  acceded  with  pleasure  to  his  son  Stani* 


THE   WOLF.  — EDUCATION  OP   WILLIAM.  19 

las'  request  to   invite  William   to  come   to  Wolfen- 
slieim  and  see  the  library. 

From,  this  time,  the  visits  from  the  cottage  to  the 
castle  were  frequent.  William  often  assisted  at  thy 
lessons  received  by  the  young  baron  ;  and  on  his  return 
home  he  remembered  what  he  had  heard,  and  tried  to 
study  the  books  which  were  readily  and  kindly  lent 
him.  Stanislas  helped  his  efforts,  and  the  baron  was 
pleased  to  see  the  emulation  between  them. 

The  works  which  William  read  with  most  avidity 
were  accounts  of  voyages  and  travels.  The  dangers 
and  perils  encountered  by  the  hardy  explorers  whose 
exploits  were  related,  Cik- !  his  young  mind  com 
pletely.  He  s  .\v  himself,  in  thought,  the  hero  of 
extraordinary  adventures.  It  seemed  as  if  the  Black 
Forest  and  all  the  surrounding  country  were  too  iir.r- 
row  a  space  for  him,  and  the  only  thing  which  kept 
him  at  Freudenstadt  was  his  deep  affection  for  his 
father.  He  also  read  natural  history,  and  stud i CM! 
eagerly,  that  he  might  learn  to  understand  the  great 
truths  written  in  the  book  of  Nature,  which  always 
lies  open  before  us.  He  conversed  frequently  with  the 
baron,  who  was  a  person  of  more  than  usual  learning ; 
and  his  intelligence  became  rapidly  developed,  and 
increased.  With  that  activity  of  mind  natural  to  all 
chosen  natures,  he  wished  to  examine  every  thing  and 
know  every  thing;  so  that,  without  neglecting  physical 


20 


THE   PRAJRTE   CRUSOE. 


exercise,  riding,  hunting,  <fcc.,  he   managed   to   learn 
English  and  French,  as  well  as  to  acquire  a  good  fund 

C? 

of  general  knowledge  which  was  most  useful  to  him 
in  after-years. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WILLIAM'S  DEPARTURE.  —  HIS  ARRIVAL  IN  AMEBICA. 

FOUR  years  passed  away  in  this  quiet  and  peaceful 
manner.  But  grief  was  now  to  visit  poor  William. 
His  adopted  father  fell  sick,  and  took  to  his  bed  for 
the  last  time;  soon  growing  aware  that  his  last  hour 
was  come,  notwithstanding  the  care  and  devotion 
shown  him  by  his  beloved  boy. 

"My  child,"  said  he,  one  evening  when  he  felt  more 
than  usually  feeble,  "I  am  going  to  die,  and  leave  you 
alone  on  earth.  Never  forget  the  precepts  which  I 
taught  you :  always  do  your  duty,  and  you  will  be 
happy.  Do  not  cry,"  he  added,  hearing  the  sobs  of 
the  unhappy  young  man.  "  Remember  that  death  is 
sweet  to  the  man  who  has  nothing  with  which  to 
reproach  himself.  Adieu,  my  son!  I  bless  you  and" 

.  But  he  could  not  finish  the  sentence  he  had 

commenced ;  for  death  had  released  his  soul  from  the 
chains  of  this  life. 

21 


22  THE   PRAIRIE*  CRUSOE. 

William,  stricken  with  grief,  remained  insensible  to 
the  sweet  consolation  offered  by  Stanislas,  and  seemed 
to  exist  only  in  the  grief  and  sorrow  which  flooded 
.  his  lonely  heart.  He  only  roused  himself  at  last  when 
he  was  called  upon  to  follow  to  the  grave  the  mortal 
remains  of  him  who  had  watched  over  his  earliest 
infancy,  and  who  had,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  been  so 
good  a  father  to  him. 

In  about  a  month  after  Berchtold's  death,  the  Baron 
of  Wolfensheim  represented  to  him  that  he  was  no 
longer  a  child,  but  that  he  must  overcome  his  grk'f 
and  choose  a  condition  of  life.  The  baron  offered  to 
assist  and  protect  him  in  whatever  course  he  might 
select.  Stanislas,  who  had  been  named  an  officer  in  the 
husnars,  hoped  that  his  friend  would  decide  upon  enter 
ing  his  regiment,  where  he  knew  that  the  powerful 
influence  of  the  baron  could  easily  obtain  his  promo 
tion.  But  William  acknowledged,  that  from  boyhood 
he  had  always  loved  to  think  of  long  voyages  and  dis 
tant  travels;  and  that  the  accounts  of  hardy  navigators, 
and  the  hair-breadth  perils  through  which  they  had 
passed,  which  he  had  so  eagerly  read,  had  only  increased 
his  natural  desire  to  become  a  sailor.  Great  as  was 
the  regret  of  the  baron  and  his  son  to  find  in  Wil 
liam  the  love  of  an  avocation  which  would  lead  him 
far  from  them,  they  did  not  seek  to  turn  him  from  his 
project,  feeling  certain  that  their  young  friend  could 


WILLIAM'S  DEPARTURE.  23 

not  fail  to  succeed  in  a  career  embraced  from  choice. 
The  baron  used  his  influence  to  procure  him  a  good 
position ;  and  it  was  decided  that  he  should  embark  on 
the  "  Washington,"  which  ship  was  then  lying  at  Ham 
burg,  about  to  set  sail  for  America. 

The  day  for  his  departure  was  a  sad  one  for  Wil 
liam,  who  felt  that  he  was  leaving  the  only  persons  on 
earth  who  took  an  interest  in  him,  and  that  he  would 
henceforth  have  to  make  hi's  way  among  strangers; 
but  his  natural  firmness  did  not  abandon  him,  and  he 
repressed  his  already  rising  tears  that  he  might  not 
cause  a  new  grief  to  his  friends. 

He  felt  deeply  grieved  to  leave  the  goat,  which  had 
been  with  him  in  the  happy  days  of  childhood;  and, 
that  it  might  not  be  ill  treated  by  strangers,  he  gave  it 
to  young  Bertha,  Stanislas'  sister.  The  little  girl, 
who  liked  William  very  much,  promised  him,  amid 
her  sobs,  to  take  great  care  of  it,  and,  with  the  inno 
cence  of  her  age,  asked  him  to  bring  her  many  pretty 
things  when  he  came  back. 

The  baron  and  Stanislas  had  decided  on  accompa 
nying  William  as  far  as  Hamburg,  in  order  to  recom 
mend  him  to  his  captain.  The  journey  wns  quickly 
made;  and,  on  the  1st  of  March,  William  embraced  his 
benefactors  for  the  last  time  before  his  departure. 
Stanislas  made  him  promise  to  send  news  as  often  as 
«  could ;  and  they  parted,  pledging  an  eternal  friend- 


24  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

ship.  The  baron  recalled  to  his  mind  the  wise  coun 
sels  of  his  adopted  father,  and  added  other  advice 
applicable  to  his  new  career.  At  last,  it  was  necessary 
to  separate ;  and  the  poor  young  man  saw  his  friends 
get  into  the  boat  which  would  separate  them  from 
him,  perhaps,  alas!  forever.  He  remained  on  deck 
until  the  land,  disappearing  gradually  on  the  horizon, 
was  scarcely  a  perceptible  line ;  and  at  last  it  faded 
entirely  from  his  sight. 

Nothing  remarkable  happened  during  the  voyage 
until  they  entered  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  when  a  great 
storm  arose,  perilling  the  lives  of  our  young  adven 
turer  and  his  companions.  In  the  midst  of  the  con 
fusion,  William  showed  great  coolness,  and  an  ability 
which  was  not  looked  for,  so  much  so  as  to  win  the 
compliments  of  the  captain  and  the  congratulations  of 
his  comrades. 

Our  young  friend  had,  however,  mistaken  his  real 
vocation.  In  becoming  a  sailor,  he  had  been  led  by 
his  adventurous  spirit,  his  love  of  travel,  and  a  taste 
for  natural  history,  rather  than  by  an  actual  desire  to 
follow  the  sea;  but,  accustomed  from  early  youlh  to 
sacrifice  inclination  to  duty,  he  had  succeeded  by 
his  obedience,  his  good  conduct,  and  his  exactness  in 
fuliilling  all  his  duties,  in  winning  the  esteem  of  the 
officers  and  men. 
The  magnificent  vegetation  which  he  perceived 


WILLIAM'S  DEPARTURE.  25 

everywhere  along  the  shore  made  him  anxious  to 
reach  the  land :  hence  he  eagerly  seized  the  opportu 
nity  to  go  on  shore  in  the  long-boat  with  a  party  who 
landed  to  fill  their  water-casks  in  Turtle  Bay,  — so 
called  from  the  great  number  of  turtles  which  come 
there  to  deposit  their  eggs  in  the  sand. 

As  soon  as  they  reached  the  shore,  William,  who 
was  free  from  duty,  took  his  gun  and  ammunition, 
with  some  provisions,  and  advanced  into  the  country. 
He  soon  came  to  the  confines  of  a  large  forest.  The 
immense  trees  and  beautiful  flowers  of  America,  so 
different  from  those  of  his  own  country,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  young  wanderer ;  and  passing  from 
one  object  to  another,  anxious  to  examine  all,  he  went 
farther  than  he  imagined,  or  had  intended  to  do. 

After  walking  several  hours,  beginning  to  feel 
hungry,  William  stopped  to  eat  the  little  provision 
which  he^  had  brought  with  him;  and,  thinking  that 
the  hour  must  be  come  for  him  to  regain  the  boat,  he 
arose  quite  joyous,  thinking,  with  a  presumption  natu 
ral  to  his  age,  that  he  could  easily  find  his  way  back 
to  it.  However,  he  was  mistaken.  He  did  not  pos 
sess  the  wonderful  faculty  of  the  Indians,  who  find 
their  way  in  the  dense  forests  where  no  path  has  b<H>n 
trodden ;  so  that,  the  more  he  walked,  the  less  he  ap 
peared  likely  to  discover  the  way  back  to  the  shore. 
The  sun  was  now  setting :  so,  thinking  that  he  would 


26 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


find  it  still  more  difficult  to  trace  his  path  in  the  dark 
ness,  he  took  the  resolution  to  ascend  a  tree  to  pass 
the  night;  and,  recommending  himself  to  God,  the 
courageous  lad  very  quickly  lost  the  memory  of  his 
irouble  in  his  youthful  dreams. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    PRAIRIES. A    TRAPPER. 

ON  awakening,  he  examined  very  carefully  the 
ground  about  him,  and  discerned  by  the  moisture  of 
the  soil  that  he  must  be  near  a  stream. 

In  fact,  a  short  distance  farther  on,  he  found  a 
rivulet,  which,  freeing  itself  from  the  earth  and  moss, 
flowed  along  in  a  little  silvery  current.  The  banks 
were  covered  with  a  beautiful  green  turf,  whose  fresh 
ness  contrasted  charmingly  with  the  foliage  above,  :  nd 
the  pure  white  lilies  wh'ch  lifted  their  heads  above 
the  gentle  waves.  The  trees  bordering  the  water  had 
laced  and  interlaced  their  branches,  forming  a  kind  of 
natural  canopy,  which  the  bright  beams  of  the  risen 
sun  with  difficulty  penetrated.  Thousands  of  creeping 
plants,  covered  with  orange,  purple,  and  white  flowers, 
hung  from  the  branches  like  so  many  garlands  grace 
fully  twined  above  the  murmuring  brook.  At  the 


27 


THE   PKAIKIE   CRUSOE. 

least  breath  of  wind,  a  perfect  shoAver  of  flowers  cov 
ered  the  earth,  and  added  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene ; 
while  here  and  there  gay  butterflies  danced  from  stein 
to  stern. 

Suddenly  an  aquatic  bird  started  from  the  thick 
underbrush;  and  William,  drawn  from  his  ecstasy  by 
the  sound  of  its  wings,  levelled  his  gun,  and  killed  it. 
He  had  already  begun  to  feel  the  approach  of  hunger : 
so,  collecting  broken  branches  and  dry  leaves,  he  built 
a  fire,  and  roasted  his  game.  The  limpid  water 
quenched  his  thirst,  and  gave  a  zest  to  his  first  savage 
meal. 

After  he  had  thus  refreshed  his  natural  hunger,  his 
strength  was  quite  renewed :  and  William  started  on, 
following  always  the  course  of  the  stream,  which 
must,  he  argued,  lead  him  to  the  sea-shore;  but,  con 
trary  to  his  very  natural  belief,  the  deeper  he  pene 
trated  the  forest,  the  farther  he  receded  from  the  coast. 

For  many  long  and  weary  days  he  walked  almost 
constantly,  without  any  othir  result  than  becoming 
thoroughly  bewildered.  At  last  he  grew  discouraged, 
feeling  that  he  was  lost  in  one  of  the  immense  Ameri 
can  forests,  without  any  hope  of  finding  his  vessel, 
which  doubtless  had  sailed  away,  leaving  him  on 
shore  in  this  wild  spot.  His  supply  of  powder  was 
nearly  exhausted,  and  he  saw  himself  without  any 
further  means  of  procuring  subsistence.  Still  he 


THE   PRAIRIES.  —  A   TRAPPER.  29 

would  not  despair,  knowing  that  whoever  puts  his 
confidence  in  Divine  Providence  is  never  abandoned 
by  the  Deity. 

The  stream,  which  he  had  until  now  followed,  hail 

lost  itself  in  a  ravine,  closed  in  by  vines,  trees,  and 

bushes  so  densely  as  to  form  an  impenetrable  barrier. 

He  gave  up  attempting  to  follow  it  any  farther,  and 

directed  his  steps  as  due  north  as  he  could,  hoping  to 

find  some  great  river  which  might  possibly  lead  him 

to  some  settlement  where  he  could  ask  for  hospitality. 

Day  after  day  he  pursued  his  course  across  prairies 

and    through    forests,    which    successively    presented 

themselves,  divided  by  numerous  water-courses,  which 

he  waded  through  or  swam  across  in  safety ;  when,  at 

a  little  opening  in  the  woods,  he  saw  a  man  standing 

with   a  loni?  rifle   poised  upon  his  shoulder.     It  was 

;.  trapper  named  Lewis,  who,  hearing  the  noise  which 

William  made  walking  in  the  wood,  and  not  knowing 

what  enemy  he  might  have  to  encounter,  examining 

the    forest    in    his    direction,   was    prepared    for   any 

chance. 

William,  happy  to  see  a  human  being  once  more, 
ran  towards  Lewis;  but  the  latter  made  him  a  sign 
to  stop,  and,  raising  his  rifle,  asked  him  in  English  who 
he  was.  Surprised  at  such  a  reception,  our  young 
friend  obeyed,  and  related  in  a  few  words  the  circum 


30  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

stances  which  had  le'd  him  into  this  place,  and  the  dis 
tress  in  which  he  then  was. 

Immediately  the  trapper  advanced,  and  held  out  his 
hand  cordially,  and,  with  a  frankness  characteiistic  of 
that  class  of  men,  promised  him  aid  and  protection. 

"As  to  finding  your  vessel  again,"  said  he,  "you 
must  not  think  of  it.  We  are  very  far  from  the  bay 
where  you  landed;  and,  moreover,  they  would  not 
wait  for  you.  Your  captain  believes  you  dead,  and 
he  has  reason  to  do  so ;  for  it  is  a  miracle  for  you  to 
have  travelled  for  weeks  in  such  a  country  as  this,  sur 
rounded  by  every  conceivable  danger,  and  yet  to 
have  preserved  your  life.  If  you  wish  to  follow  my 
fortunes  for  a  while,  and  share  my  fatigues  and  my 
labors,  I  will  teach  you  the  mysteries  of  the  wandering 
life  which  we,  the  dwellers  in  the  Great  West,  lead; 
and  that  may  be  of  use  to  you.  When  the  hunt 
ing  season  is  over,  we  will  go  to  St.  Louis,,  where  you 
will  find  an  opportunity  to  return  to  Europe.  Until 
that  time,  you  will  find  me  a  devoted  friend  in  whom 
you  may  rely,  as  I  trust  I  may  in  you  when  occasion 
offers." 

Lewis  grasped  William's  hand  again,  and  gave  it  a 
good  hearty  shake. 

We  will  now  give  way  to  our  hero  himself,  whose 
account  of  the  principal  events  which  he  witnessed, 


THE  PRAIRIES.  —  A   TRAPPER. 

and  in  many  of  which  he  himself  played  an  important 
part,  was  written  carefully  by  him  in  after-years:—- 

«I  accepted  gratefully  the  offer  of  the  brave  trapper, 
and  thanked  him  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  the 
unlooked-for  assistance  which  he  afforded  me  in  my 
loneliness  and  helplessness.  His  proposal  was  of  a 
nature  to  please  me,  for  I  saw  with  joy  before  me 
a  life  completely  in  harmony  with  my  adventurous 
tastes,  and  love  of  travel. 

"  After  our  frugal  meal,  composed  of  crackers,  a  slice 
of  buffalo-meat  dried  in  the  sun,  and  some  pure  water 
from  a  neighboring  brook,  we  set  off. 

"We  usually  walked  from  daybreak  until  the  heat 
of  the  sun  became  too  powerful.  We  would  then  seek 
the  shelter  of  the  trees,  and  Lewis,  after  carefully 
examining  the  vicinity,  prepared  our  meal.  A  flexible 
branch,  resting  upon  two  other  forked  branches,  served 
as  a  spit  whereon  to  roast  whatever  game  we  had 
killed.  Then,  lighting  our  pipes,  Lewis  related  to  me 
the  varied  and  sometimes  terrible  episodes  of  a  trapper's 
life:  he  made  me  acquainted  with  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  different  tribes  of  the  Indians,  and 
taught  me  the  more  common  words  in  their  various 
dialects. 

«  After  the  heat  of  the  sun  had  decreased,  we  would 
continue  our  journey  until  night,  hunting,  setting  our 
traps,  and  sometimes,  when  we  had  unusually  fine 


32  THE   PR  A  TRIE   CRUSOE. 


sport,  preparing  and  packing  the  furs  of  the  animals 
we  had  shot  the  past  day. 

"  At  niglit  we  rested  in  the  thick  grass,  one  keeping 
watch  for  a  few  hours  while  the  other  slept.  Lewis 
sometimes  would  not  light  a  fire  to  preserve  us  from 
wild  beasts,  because  the  smoke  would  betray  us  to  the 
Indians,  who  might  make  us  pay  clearly  for  our  impru 
dence. 

"For  several  days  we  ascended  one  of  the  tributaries 
of  the  Missouri,  whose  course  is  very  irregular.  Now 
enclosed  between  enormous  rocks,  or  by  the  winding 
lines  of  the  small  hills,  which  stretched  away  in  the 
distance,  the  river  would  narrow  in  its  bed,  and  pre 
cipitate  its  waters  violently  beneath  the  thick  brunches 
of  the  immense  trees  which  lined  either  bank,  and 
whose  foliage,  meeting  above,  formed  a  beautiful  arch: 
then,  on  the  contrary,  extending  itself  in  the  broad 
valleys  between  the  hills,  it  formed  immense  lakes, 
where  the  current  was  scarcely  visible  ;  thus  making, 
as  it  were,  a  chain  of  inland  seas  and  streams. 

"  Flowers,  most  lovely  and  most  varied  in  hue,  car 
peted  these  plains,  and  multitudes  of  richly  plumed 
birds  made  the  wilderness  alive,  as  they  passed  from 
tree  to  tree  and  flower  to  flower. 

"Reaching  an  elbow  of  the  river,  Lewis  entered  a 
valley  about  three  or  four  miles  wide,  open  at  the 
sides,  and  stretching  away,  as  the  elevation  gradually 


THE   PRAIRIES.  —  A    TRAPPER. 

increased,  towards  immense  forests,  which  were  just 
visible  on  the  horizon.  The  heat  was  intense,  and  the 
perspiration  ran  down  our  faces  freely,  although  the 
sun  was  hidden  in  a  dense  mass  of  vapor.  Heavy 
black  clouds  began  to  show  themselves  on  every  side, 
driven  by  a  wind  which  had  not  yet  reached  us ;  for 
the  fresh  morning  breeze  had  died  away. 

"Lewis  had  already  shown  some  signs  of  inquietude : 
he  looked  at  the  different  quarters  of  the  heavens,  and 
hurried  on.  All  at  once  he  stopped,  and  turned 
towards  me.  'William,'  said  he,  'if  we  do  not  wish 
to  perish  here,  we  must  gain  yonder  rising  ground  as 
quickly  as  possible.  In  a  very  short  time,  this  plain 
will  be  nothing  but  an  immense  lake,  and  every  thing 
on  it  will  be  swallowed  up.' 

"  Onward  we  sped,  as  rapidly  as  possible,  towards 
the  heights  which  bordered  this  vast  amphitheatre." 


3 


CHAPTER  V. 


INUNDATION.  —  THE    RED-SKINS. 

"  EVERY  thing  seemed,  as  Lewis  afterwards  told  me, 
to  forebode  one  of  those  terrific  hurricanes,  which 
pass  witli  lightning  speed,  tearing  up  and  overthrow 
ing  every  thing  that  comes  in  their  way.  The  sky  was 
of  a  dull  lead-color :  here  and  there,  spots  of  dazzling 
white,  or  of  copper-color,  seemed  to  hold  together  the 
immense  masses  of  black  clouds  which  rolled  along 
over  and  through  each  other  in  angry  rage.  From 
the  extremity  of  the  horizon  rose  a  dark  point  into 
the  only  less  dark  sky,  whose  course  was  directed 
towards  the  centre  of  the  valley. 

"  Disorder  was  not  less  apparent  on  the  earth,  so 
peaceful  and  smiling  a  short  hour  since.  Flocks  of 
birds  sped  rapidly  over  the  level  ground,  towards  the 
forest,  uttering  sharp  cries.  Troops  of  bisons  and 

35 


P)G  THE  PIUJRTE   CRUSOE. 

antelopes,  in  serried  masses,  made  the  ground  tremble 
beneath  their  wildly  living  rush. 

"A  grisly  bear,  and  a  female  jaguar  with  her 
young,  were  amongst  them.  They  had  forgotten  their 
own  ferocity,  and  sought  only  to  avoid  the  danger 
which  their  instinct  revealed  to  them. 

"Animals  of  every  kind  had  but  one  feeling,  that  of 
danger. 

"  We  had  scarcely  reached  an  immense  rock,  which 
overlooked  the  whole  of  the  plain,  and  established  our 
selves  beneath  an  enormous  araucaria,  when  the  hurri 
cane  burst  forth  in  all  its  fury. 

"A  low  rumbling  was  audible  in  the  distance.  TLo 
earth  seemed  agitated  by  some  internal  movement, 
the  trees  trembled  from  their  very  roots;  but  not  & 
breath  of  wind.  Suddenly,  down  came  the  torrentr, 
and  a  fearful  convulsion  succeeded  the  suspense  of 
pain.  The. giant  trees  bent  like  reeds,  and,  crashing 
together,  were  hurled  into  the  air  by  the  violence  oi 
the  tempest.  In  an  instant,  these  monarchs  of  tin 
wood  were  destroyed,  leaving  bare  the  rocks  which 
the  lapse  of  ages  had  left  respected. 

"  This  scene  of  horror  was  made  still  more  terrible 
by  the  sharp  and  vivid  flashes  of  the  blue  lightning, 
while  the  thunder  pealed  through  the  heaven,  and  was 
re-echoed  in  the  distance.  The  low,  distant  rumbling, 
which  I  had  already  noticed,  approached ;  and,  by  the 


INUNDATION.  —  THE   RED-SKINS. 


37 


glimmer  of  the  lightning,  I  saw  a  white  line,  the  whole 
width  of  the  valley,  advancing  with  angry  speed  to 
wards  the  steep  ascent.  It  was  the  rushing  water 
from  above  precipitating  itself  into  the  open  space 

before  it. 

"In  a  very  few  minutes,  as  Lewis  had  said,  the 
waves  covered  all  the  plain  stretched  at  our  feet,  and 
formed  only  a  fearful  torrent,  sweeping  away  in  its 
surging  flood  the  trunks  of  huge  trees,  shattered 
rocks,  and  the  bodies  of  animals  surprised  before  a 
shelter  could  be  found.  One  grisly  bear  alone,  probably 
the  same  one  which  had  passed  near  us,  was  swimming 
stoutly  in  the  midst  of  the  torrent.  He  endeavored 
to  find  some  safe  spot  not  yet  submerged ;  but  we  saw 
him  seize  the  branches  of  a  tree,  which  turned  over, 
and  he  disappeared.  A  real  flood  of  rain  increased 
the  sublime  horror  of  the  scene.  It  fell  in  immense 
sheets,  and  so  compressed  the  atmosphere  as  to  almost 
take  away  the  power  of  respiration.  Every  ravine, 
every  depression  of  the  soil,  had  become  a  torrent ; 
and  the  rock  where  we  stood  formed  an  island  in  the 
midst  of  this  sea,  which  barely  a  few  minutes  had 
sufficed  to  create. 

"This  rain  announced  the  end  of  the  storm.  It 
commenced  to  lessen  its  violence ;  and,  in  an  hour,  the 
sky  began  to  clear.  Gradually  the  clouds  disappeared 


38  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

from  the  horizon,  and  the  rays  of  the  sun  illumined  the 
scene  of  desolation. 

"  We  passed  the  night  on  the  rock,  and,  at  dawn  of 
day,  we  recommenced  our  journey  through  the  valley, 
whence  the  waters  had  almost  subsided.  Here  and 
there,  indeed,  they  still  stood  in  large  ponds.  The 
prairie,  so  green  and  flourishing  the  day  before,  was 
soiled  by  the  deposits  from  the  mountains.  Dead 
bodies  of  animals  were  stretched  upon  the  ground,  or 
caught  in  the  branches  of  uprooted  trees.  Such,  how 
ever,  is  the  power  of  vegetation  in  these  countries, 
that  a  few  days  would  suffice  to  make  every  trace  of 
the  tempest  disappear. 

"The  sun  dries  up  the  stagnant  waters,  the  earth 
is  enriched  by  the  alluvial  deposits,  and  troops  of  vul 
tures  devour  the  flesh  of  the  rotting  brutes  that  have 
fallen  victims  to  the  fury  of  the  tempestuous  hurri 
cane. 

"I  had  been  astonished  that  Lewis,  ordinarily  so 
prudent,  should  have  sought  a  refuge  beneath  a  tree 
whose  size  and  height  must,  as  I  naturally  thought, 
have  attracted  the  lightning;  and  so  I  observed  to 
him. 

" '  In  the  first  place,'  said  he,  c  I  had  no  choice.  We 
had  to  avoid  the  danger  which  menaced  us  as  quickly 
as  possible.  If  we  had  remained  in  the  valley,  we 


INUNDATION.  —  THE   RED-SKINS.  39 

must  have  been  inevitably  ingulfed  by  the  torrent, 
or  crushed  to  death  amongst  the  buffaloes  and  other 
wild  animals  which  were  fleeing  in  every  direction; 
whereas,  in  taking  refuge  beneath  a  resinous  tree, 
such  as  the  araucaiia,  we  ran  less  risk  than  bencatli 
one  of  a  different  kind.  The  lightning  rarely  strikes 
pines  or  fir-trees,  or  larch-trees,  because  the  gum  which 
impregnates  them  is  a  bad  conductor  for  electricity. 
Still  we  cannot  trust  to  that  wholly  ;  although,  yester 
day,  several  trees  not  so  high  as  the  one  which  we 
chose  were  struck.  Nevertheless,  as  wise  men  invaria 
bly  do,  of  two  dangers  to  which  we  are  exposed,  we 
must  choose  the  lesser.' 

"  While  talking  thus,  we  had  reached  the  edge  of 
the  valley,  and,  cutting  a  way  with  a  hatchet  through 
a  wood  where  the  undergrowth  and  vines  were  very 
dense  and  tangled,  we  reached  a  fine  table-land 
extending  far  beyond  the  range  of  the  eye.  It  was 
dotted  with  small  clumps  of  young  trees,  and  enormous 
rocks,  which  some  terrible  revolution  of  Nature  had 
evidently  hurled  from  the  high  mountains  whose  blue 
peaks  were  visible  on  the  verge  of  the  horizon. 

"All  at  once  Lewis  stopped,  stooped  down,  and 
pointed  out  to  me  some  tracks  which  had  recently 
been  left  on  the  damp  ground. 

"'A  man's  foot-print,'  said  he.  '  Two  Indians  of  the 
Blackfeet  tribe  have  passed  here  only  a  short  while 


£0  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

since,  following  the  same  route  as  we  do.  I  can  tell 
them  by  the  imprint  of  their  moccasons.' 

"  I  remarked  that  I  could  see  only  the  track  of  one 
man,  and  that  he  told  me  there  were  two. 

'"Stoop  down,'  he  answered,  'and  notice  that  the 
leathern  string  which  fastens  the  moccason  of  the 
second  Indian  is  not  in  exactly  the  same  place  as  that 
of  the  first.  They  were  walking  in  the  same  track, 
as  they  invariably  do,  with  extreme  cunning,  in  order 
to  conceal  their  number  by  making  only  one  trail; 
but  the  mark  of  the  string  on  the  foot  of  the  last  has 
crossed  and  half  obliterated  the  print  of  the  first. 
There  were  two,  and  but  two,  I  am  certain.' 

"I  was  astonished  at  such  sagacity,  and  began  to 
understand  how  much  the  wild  life  which  I  now  led 
required  experience,  coolness,  and  observation.  After 
examining  our  arms,  and  making  sure  that  they  were 
in  good  order,  we  continued  our  way,  following  the 
trail,  which  Lewis  detected  with  wonderful  facility. 

u  At  about  two  miles  from  the  place  where  we  were, 
there  rose  from  the  midst  of  the  plain  a  mass  of  rocks, 
heaped  one  upon  another,  and  topped  with  trees,  roots, 
and  vines.  The  trail  which  we  were  upon  led  to  this 
spot.  After  walking  about  half  an  hour,  we  came 
close  to  these  rocks ;  and  Lewis  told  me  to  go  round 
to  the  left,  while  he  would  follow  the  trail,  which  led 
to  the  right.  He  recommended  me  to  use  very  great 


INUNDATION.  —  THE   RED-SKINS.  41 

prudence,  warning  me  to  keep  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  brush,  and  not  to  make  use  of  my  arms  except  in 
a  case  of  absolute  necessity.  If  we  needed  each  other, 
we  were  to  imitate  the  note  of  the  turkey-buzzard, 
and  go  to  the  spot  whence  came  the  signal. 

"  I  made  the  turn  without  finding  any  thing  suspi 
cious  ;  and,  when  I  got  round  the  rocks,  I  found  Lewis 
resting  on  his  carbine,  waiting  for  me.  'There  was 
nothing  to  disturb  us,'  said  he ;  'but  here  are  the  prints 
of  our  Blackfeet,  leading  towards  the  plain.  We  will 
keep  in  pursuit.' 

"After  going  some  distance,  Lewis  stopped  again 
with  an  air  of  astonishment  and  inquietude. 

" '  Here  is  something  new,'  he  observed.  '  Thus  far 
they  walked  regularly,  and  without  hurrying ;  but  here 
they  began  to  run.  See  the  print  of  the  moccasons; 
the  toes  are  printed  deeply,  the  heel  does  not  touch  at 
all,  and  the  steps  are  much  longer.  They  ran  sepa 
rately,  and  without  taking  the  trouble  to  keep  in  each 
other's  footsteps.  Something  extraordinary  obliged 
them  to  change  their  step.  Come  on  1 ' 

"  We  hurried  along." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    GRISLY    BEAR   AND    THE    BLACKPOOL 

«I  OUGHT,  perhaps,  to  explain  that  no  regular  road 
traverses  these  vast  plains,  nor  is  there  any  path  indi 
cated  across  them.    Indeed,  it  would  seem  impossible 
to  him  who  treads  them  for  the  first  time,  to  obtain 
any  clew  to  serve  him  as  a  guide  through  these  wild 
solitudes.     Yet  it  is  not  so.     Without  counting  the 
rocks,  the  trees,  the  hills,  and  the  streams,  which  serve 
as  landmarks  for  the  direction  both  of  the  Indian  and 
the  trapper,  there  are  innumerable  little  paths,  called 
trails,  formed  by  the  different  wild  animals,  which  are 
thickly  scattered  through  these  regions.     Each  species 
of  beast  in  going  to  drink,  or  returning  to  its  regular 
resort,  follows  its  own  track;  and  this  is  never  con 
founded  with  that  of  any  other  class.      This  forms  a 
perfect  net-work  of  thousands  of  little  paths,  which 


44  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

the  practised  eye  of  the  native,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
white  hunter,  distinguishes  easily,  and  by  or  across 
which  he  guides  himself  without  the  slightest  hesi 
tation. 

"  Lewis,  therefore,  still  followed  the  trail  he  had  pre 
viously  pursued,,  until  he  suddenly  paused,  and  called 
my  attention  to  another  which  crossed  it.  It  was  the 
mark  of  a  heavy  tread  of  enormous  length  and  size, 
which  one  might  have  taken  for  the  print  from  the 
foot  of  a  giant,  were  it  not  for  the  long  claws,  which 
were  dinted  heavily  in  the  earth,  and  showed  very 
clearly  that  an  animal  of  huge  size  must  have  passed 
along  it. 

" '  This  is  the  footprint  of  a  grisly  bear,'  said  Lewis. 
4  Now  I  understand  the  flight  of  the  Blackfeet.  Let 
us  hurry  on,  and  be  ready  for  any  chance.  Perhaps 
we  may  arrive  in  time  to  save  the  lives  of  these  unfor 
tunate  men  ;  for  the  trail  is  quite  fresh,  and  leads 
directly  towards  the  pile  of  rocks  that  lie  close  to  the 
little  grove  before  us.' 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  it  might  have  been  more 
prudent  for  us  to  change  our  route  than  to  expose 
ourselves  to  a  meeting  with  that  terrible  animal, 
whose  strength  and  intrepidity  are  only  equalled  by 
its  ferocity.  The  only  possible  means  of  an  escape 
from  it,  when  encountered,  is  to  kill  it ;  and  this  is  an 
extremely  difficult  matter,  on  account  both  of  the 


THE  GRISLY   BEAR   AND   THE   BLACKFOOT.          4f> 

thickness  of  its  hide  and  fur,  as  well  as  its  exceeding 
tenacity  of  life. 

"Monstrous  in  its  proportions,  and  with  long  and 
very  muscular  limbs,  the  grisly  runs  with  great  speed. 
An  excellent  swimmer,  it  traverses  the  most  rapid  tor 
rents  and  the  widest  rivers  without  difficulty.  While, 
«o  great  is  its  strength,  that  it  can  break  the  skull  of 
the  bison  with  a  single  blow  from  its  paw. 

"'You  know  that  I  am  tolerably  prudent,'  said 
Lewis,  in  reply  to  my  observations,  as  he  continued 
his  way.  'There  are,  however,  times  when  prudence 
becomes  cowardice.  Mind,  my  boy,  I  do  not  style  a 
temerity  which  is  profitable  to  no  one  courage.  But 
here  the  case  is  a  very  different  one.  We  have,  per 
haps,  the  chance  offered  us  to  save  the  life  of  one  of 
our  fellow-beings.  Whatever  his  color  may  be,  let  us 
not  forget  that  he  is,  like  us,  a  child  of  the  great  God, 
who  made  all  men.  He  is  an  enemy,  you  may  perhaps 
say.  The  assistance  which  we  shall,  in  all  probability, 
succeed  in  rendering  him,  will  possibly  render  him  a 
true  friend ;  and,  in  the  wilderness,  my  lad,  a  friend  is 
more  than  a  treasure.  Those  affections  are  deep  and 
tenacious  which  spring  up  between  "men  who  have  run 
the  same  risks,  or  exposed  their  lives  for  each  other. 
Nor  should  we  refrain,  on  account  of  danger,  when 
is  a  possibility  of  our  saving  the  life  of  eren  out 


46  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

bitterest  foe.  In  Europe  you  call  him  a  friend  whom 
you  meet  in  a  drawing-room,  or  with  whom  you  sit  down 
to  dinner.  You  meet  two  or  three  times,  and  then  you 
promise  each  other  eternal  fidelity,  like  Jonathan  and 
David.  But  only  let  David  want  to  borrow  so  much 
money  from  Jonathan,  without  having  any  security  to 
offer,  and  what  is  your  friendship  worth?  Jonathan 
refuses  David,  and  David  separates  himself  from  Jona 
than.  The  friendship  is  ended  at  once.  Here  in  the 
desert  we  don't  lend  our  money  (coin  would  bo  of 
little  use)  ;  but  we  give  our  lives  for  our  friends,  or  for 
a  stranger.  So,  my  dear  William,  let  us  assist  these 
unfortunates  if  there  is  still  time.  What  we  would 
have  others  do  for  us  we  ought  always  to  be  ready  to 
do  for  them.' 

"It  was  not  often  that  Lewis  made  such  a  long 
speech  as  this.  He  was  evidently  deeply  moved  ;  and 
my  heart  reproached  me  for  having  exposed  myself  tc 
such  a  reproof. 

"  Here,  at  a  distance  of  two  thousand  miles  from  my 
own  country,  amidst  these  wilds,  I  heard  a  man,  almost 
a  child  of  Nature,  recall  to  my  careless  will  the  beau 
tiful  precepts  which  my  dear  fostering-father,  Berch- 
told,  and  the  baron  my  worthy  protector,  had  so  often 
impressed  upon  me.  I  blushed  deeply  as  I  thought 
how  true  it  was,  that  morality  has  no  country,  but  is 


THE  GRISLY  BEAR   AND   THE  BLACKFOOT.          47 

innate  in  the  hearts  of  all  loyal  and  honest  men,  and 
hurried  on  after  Lewis,  who  had  been  rapidly  advan 
cing  all  the  time  that  he  had  been  speaking. 

"As  we  marked  the  steps  of  the  bear,  whose  huge 
tread  covered  the  footprints  of  the  Indians,  actually 
almost  effacing  their  trail,  it  was  very  evident  that  it 
was  in  close  pursuit,  and  was  probably  gaining  upon 
them  rapidly.  When  but  a  few  yards  from  the  rocks 
which  we  had  perceived  in  the  distance,  we  heaiv] 
cries,  and  exclamations  of  rage,  intermingled  with 
fierce  growls.  A  terrible  struggle  was  evidently  going 
on  behind  them,  and,  hastening  our  steps  to  a  rapid 
run  as  we  rounded  the  mass  of  rock,  we  at  length  saw 
what  was  taking  place. 

"  An  enormous  bear,  with  its  mouth  and  fangs  cov 
ered  with  blood,  was  pursuing  one  of  the  Blackfcet, 
who  had  just  wounded  it  with  his  lance. 

"  On  seeing  the  unexpected  assistance  which  was 
offered  him,  he  sprang  towards  us. 

"In  another  moment,  the  luckless  Indian  would  have 
been  destroyed  by  the  powerful  blow  of  the  monstrous 
brute. 

"  I  was  but  a  single  foot  in  advance  of  Lewis.  As 
the  Indian  leaped  aside,  that  he  might  not  prevent  my 
aim,  I  fired.  I  was  but  at  the  distance  of  some  ten 
feet  from  the  animal ;  but,  whether  from  nervousness  01 
not,  I  only  succeeded  in  striking  it  in  one  of  its  fore- 


48  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

legs,  quite  close  to  the  shoulder.  For  a  moment,  the 
huge  beast  paused,  as  if  astonished  to  meet  with  a 
second  foe ;  then  shaking  its  wounded  fore-foot  in  the 
air,  with  a  savage  and  hideous  growl,  as  deep  but  more 
dissonant  than  thunder,  it  abandoned  its  pursuit  of  the 
Indian,  and  rushed  fiercely  towards  me.  The  wound 
which  I  had  inflicted  but  a  moment  since  did  not 
seem  to  have  caused  it  the  slightest  inconvenience; 
for,  as  Lewis  afterwards  explained  to  me,  the  grisly 
bear  is  not  only  extremely  tenacious  of  its  life,  but  will 
suffer  comparatively  little  from  wounds  which  would 
completely  disable  other  wild  animals.  Not  infre 
quently,  as  he  told  me,  it  will  travel  for  many  miles 
after  being  severely  wounded:  nay,  it  will  even 
survive  for  several  hours,  after  receiving  many  balls 
through  the  lungs  and  heart.  For  this  reason  is  it 
that  the  most  experienced  hunters  most  generally 
refrain  from  attacking  the  grisly  when  they  arc  alone, 
unless  there  be  some  tree  near  at  hand  into  which  they 
can  climb  for  refuge ;  so  rarely  will  the  animal  attempt 
to  follow  them  amongst  its  limbs.  Subsequently,  how 
ever,  I  have  hoard  of  one  case  where  a  bear  did  follow 
an  Indian.  He  had  wounded  it,  and,  being  closely 
pursued  by  the  enraged  brute,  climbed  into  the  leafy 
safety,  as  he  thought  it,  of  one  of  the  forest  monarchs. 
He  was,  however,  followed  closely,  and  compelled  to 
advance  along  one  of  the  branches,  until,  still  finding 


THE  GRISLY  BEAR  AND  THE  BLACKFOOT.    49 

the  jaws  of  his  vindictive  enemy  too  near  him,  tho 
Indian  was  forced  to  make  a  dangerous  leap  into  a 
neighboring  tree  to  save  himself  from  his  pertinacious 
pursuer. 

"  Consequently  I  had  little  reason  to  be  astonished 
when  I  saw  the  huge  grisly  rushing  towards  me. 

"  Seizing  my  knife,  I  retreated,  preparing  to  sell  my 
life  as  dearly  as  I  could,  —  for  I  scarcely  hoped  to 
escape,  —  when  Lewis  sprang  between  us. 

"What  followed  occupied  little  more  than  a  moment 
of  time. 

"  Shouldering  his  rifle,  and  aiming  it  directly  at  its 
small  but  savagely  furious  eye,  he  delivered  his 
fire. 

"  The  bear  dropped  almost  instantaneously.  Its 
huge  paws  contracted  with  its  dying  agony.  A  last 
harsh  and  smothered  growl  issued  from  its  frightful 
jaws,  and  the  ferocious  beast  expired. 

"As  we  found,  on  examination,  the  bullet  from 
Lewis's  rifle  had  passed  through  its  eye  directly  into 
its  brain,  and  had  at  once  proved  fatal. 

"He  had  saved  my  life,  and,  seizing  his  hand,  I 
pressed  it  affectionately  to  my  heart. 

"The  whole  of  the  preceding  scene  had  passed  in 
far  less  time  than  that  which  is  occupied  in  here 
describing  it.  For  as  the  Indian,  who  had  paused, 
turned,  and  was  preparing  again  to  attack  his  formida- 


50  THE   PIIAIIIIE   CRUSOE. 

ble  foe,  Lewis  fired,  and  with  the  shot  saved  him  the 
trouble  of  doing  so. 

"The  Blackfoot  stood  before  us,  leaning  upon  his 
lance.  His  posture  was  both  noble  and  dignified. 
At  most  but  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  of  age, 
the  eagle-plume  which  adorned  his  head,  shaven  of  all 
but  its  scalp-lock,  announced,  as  I  afterwards  learnt, 
that  he  was  a  warrior-chief  of  his  tribe.  From  his 
shoulders  fell  a  buffalo-robe,  ornamented  with  wolves' 
tails,  which  were  so  numerous  as  almost  to  fringe  its 
sides.  His  moccasons  were  worked  with  beads,  feath 
ers,  colored  glass,  and  animals'  teeth ;  while  a  collar, 
from  which  hung  the  paw  of  a  grisly  bear,  surrounded 
his  neck,  recalling,  in  all  probability,  some  exploit  in 
which  he  had  been  more  fortunate  than  in  this  one,  in 
which  his  life  would  have  paid  the  forfeit,  had  it  not 
been  for  our  assistance. 

"  It  was  with  a  deep  curiosity  that  I  examined  him. 
This  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  found  myself  in  the 
presence  of  one  of  that  race,  whose  manners  are  so 
widely  different  from  our  o\vn,  and  of  whom,  even  in 
Europe,  I  had  seen  and  heard  so  much." 


CHAFTEK    VII. 

THE    JAGUAK.  —  HIS     COMRADE. 

"AFTER  a,  few  moments  had  elapsed,  during  which 
neither  Lewis  nor  myself  had  spoken  a  word,  the 
Blackfoot  made  a  dignified  gesture  with  his  right  arm, 
and,  with  a  slow  and  stately  accent,  broke  the  silence. 

" '  I  am  named  the  Jaguar.  I  was  about  to  meet  my 
death,  and  pass  into  the  land  of  the  spirits,  when  Wa- 
condah'-  -I  subsequently  learnt  that  this  is  the  name 
given  by  che  Blackfect  to  their  principal  deity  —  'sent 
my  pale  young  brother  to  help  me  with  the  white 
hunter,  tfhose  inevitable  ball  killed  the  bear  of  the 
prairie.  They  have  saved  my  life.  Let  them  take  it ; 
for  the  scalps  of  the  pale-face  are  hung  at  the  door  of 
my  wigwam.' 

"'If  my  brother  the  Jaguar,'  replied  Lewis,  'has 
shed  the  blood  of  his  pale  brethren  without  being 
compelled  to  do  so  in  his  own  defence,  the  Great 

61 


52  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

Spirit  shall  one  clay  judge  him.  He  will,  in  his  turn, 
fall  unrler  the  blow  of  the  pale-face.  To-day,  his  white 
brothers  have  saved  his  life,  and  they  will  not  take  it 
away.  My  brother  is  free.  He  may  depart.  But,' 
added  Lewis,  '  the  Jaguar  was  not  alone :  a  warrior 
was  with  him.  Has  he  fled  ?  Why  did  he  not  defend 
his  brother?  Whv  did  he  leave  him  exposed  to  the 
rage  of  the  bear  of  the  prairies  ?* 

" '  The  white  hunter  is  mistaken,'  answered  the 
Indian  with  a  sad  dignity.  CA  Blackfoot  does  not  fly. 
He  knows  how  to  leave  the  hunting-grounds  of  his 
countrymen.' 

"Then,  with  a  grave  and  melancholy  gesture,  he 
made  a  sign  for  us  to  follow  him. 

"  About  fifty  steps  from  the  spot  on  which  we  were 
then  standing,  we  found  the  dead  body  of  the  com 
panion  of  the  Jaguar.  It  was  frightfully  torn  and 
mutilated.  The  expression  of  the  motionless  face  be 
trayed  the  mingled  rage  and  terror  of  the  Indian  when 
he  had  found  himself  seized  by  tne  infuriated  animal. 
It  was  here  that  the  struggle  had  commenced,  and  that 
the  bear,  in  its  savage  pursuit  of  the  two  Blackfeet, 
had  overtaken  them,  and,  before  they  had  the  opportu 
nity  to  defend  themselves,  had  torn  with  its  enormous 
paws,  the  life  from  the  young  warrior  whom  we  saw 
Btretched  upon  the  ground  at  our  feet. 

"  As  Lewis  had  suspected,  it  was  at  the  first  pile  of 


THE   JAGUAR.  —  HIS   COMRADE. 

rock  which  we  had  passed  around,  that  the  grisly, 
hitherto  concealed  by  the  tall  grass,  amongst  which  it 
had  been  crouching,  had  seen  the  Indians,  and  had 
started  to  pursue  them.  Taken  completely  by  sur 
prise,  they  had  immediately  changed  their  cautious 
inarch  for  a  rapid  flight  from  the  ferocious  beast.  Its 
speed,  however  (for,  in  spite  of  its  .large  size,  the  grisly 
bear  can  run  with  great  rapidity),  rendered  their  flight 
unavailing.  They  had  consequently  turned  upon  the 
brute  at  this  spot,  where  the  companion  of  the  Jaguar 
had  met  his  doom. 

"The  three  of  us  dug  a  grave  with  our  knives. 
This  was  a  work  of  some  time,  for  it  was  dug  deep 
in  order  that  the  dead  might  experience  an  uninter 
rupted  repose. 

"  Then  we  laid  the  body  of  the  Indian  in  his  last 
home,  with  all  his  weapons,  except  his  tomahawk, 
which  his  companion  the  Jaguar  retained. 

"After  covering  the  grave  with  some  large  fragments 
and  bowlders  of  rock,  and  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree 
which  lay  near,  in  order  to  protect  the  corpse  of  the 
Jaguar's  friend  from  the  intrusive  jaws  of  the  wild 
beasts,  which  might  be  expected  to  disturb  the  grave, 
Lewis  and  myself  retired  on  one  side,  leaving  our 
newly  made  Indian  friend  alone. 

"  Although  I  had  read  that  the  Indian  warrior  but 
rarely  exhibits  any  traces  of  strong  sorrow  in  his  bear- 


t>4  THE  PRAIHTE   CRUSOE. 

ing,  let  me  own  that  I  anticipated  seeing  something 
like  regret  or  sorrow  shown  in  the  features  of  the 
Jaguar. 

"  It  was  not  so. 

"He  stood  for  a  few  moments,  at  the  side  of  tho 
grave  which  contained  the  body  of  him  who  was  so 
lately  his  companion,  motionless,  gazing  upon  it.  He 
was  apparently  unmoved.  His  eyes  were  grave,  still, 
and  calm.  His  mouth  was  curved  as  it  had  before 
been,  and  did  not  in  any  way  betray  the  feelings  which 
must  have  been  struggling  in  his  breast.  After  the 
few  moments  had  elapsed,  he  stooped,  and,  picking  up 
a  handful  of  the  earth  which  had  been  disturbed  by 
our  knives,  tossed  it  in  an  easterly  direction,  saying,  as 
he  did  so,  a  few  words  in  his  own  tongue.  After  doing 
this,  he  turned,  and  strode  towards  the  spot  to  which  I 
had  retired  in  company  with  Lewis. 

" '  My  pale  brother  is  young,  but  he  has  no  fear.  Let 
him  take  this  tomahawk,'  he  said,  offering  me  the 
hatchet  of  the  dead  brave.  c  It  shall  be  in  his  hands, 
as  it  had  been  in  those  of  my  red  brother,  the  terror 
of  his  enemies.  Let  my  white  brothers  know  that  the 
Jaguar  is  not  forgetful.  He  will  remember,  and  his 
ears  shall  ever  be  open.  Let  his  pale  brothers  call  for 
him  when  they  will,  and  he  shall  come  to  them,  al 
though  it  may  be  from  beyond  the.  great  river.  The 
Jaguar  has  but  one  word  to-day  or  to-morrow.  He 
has  spoken.' 


THE  JAGUAR.  —  TITS   COMRADE  />.') 

"Ending  with  these  words,  he  laid  th/  A«*.  /v.mi  of 
his  right  hand  on  my  chest,  over  my  heart,  und  then 
over  that  of  Lewis,  signifying,  as  the  latter  afterwards 
told  me,  that  he  pledged  himsett  to  become  our 
brother.  Then,  bowing  with  un  air  *of  easy  and 
graceful  majesty,  he  turned  ftou  us,  and  slowly  strode 
away. 

"  My  eyes  followed  his  lofty  and  finely  proportioned 
figure,  until  it  had  passed  across  a  rising  ground,  and 
had  disappeared  from  our  sight.  Then  I  again  turned 
to  Lewis." 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

THE    CACHE.  —  HORSE-HUNTING. 

"WE  were  once  more  alone,  but  we  now  had  in  these 
immense  solitudes  a  friend  on  whom  we  could  count ; 
for  pledged  faith  is  a  sacred  thing  among  these  people 
whom  we  call  savages,  and  who  re-unite  in  themselves 
the  fierce  and  sanguinary  instincts  of  wild  beasts,  and 
the  primitive  virtues  of  the  ancient  shepherd  races. 

"  I  was  happy  in  possessing  a  hatchet.  Lewi?  had 
given  me  one  of  the  long  knives  which  he  carried  in 
his  belt.  My  own  rifle  was  an  excellent  one ;  but  a 
tomahawk  is  a  terrible  weapon,  whose  value  cannot  be 
estimated  save  in  the  adventurous  life  of  the  Great 
West. 

"  Lewis,  on  his  part,  was  not  less  content.  The  fur 
of  the  grisly  bear  was  an  object  of  value ;  for  the  trap 
pers  rarely  attack  this  animal,  because  of  the  great 
danger.  Consequently,  his  skin  is  more  rarely  found 
in  market. 

57 


58  THE  PRATRIE   CRUSOE. 

"  It  was  necessary  to  dispose  of  our  prey  as  quickly 
as  possible ;  for  the  heat  was  great,  and  any  long  delay 
would  injure  the  beauty  of  the  fur.  So  we  went  to 
work  at  once,  and,  with  the  help  of  our  knives,  we 
separated  the  flesh  and  fat  which  adhered  to  the  skin 
of  the  bear.  A  little  stream,  which  was  near  the 
place,  served  us  to  wash  away  every  vestige  of  flesh. 

"We  could  not  possibly  carry  this  enormous  spoil, 
and  yet  Lewis  wished  to  get  it  to  one  of  his  caches, 
which  was,  he  said,  only  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  dis 
tant. 

"  I  must  here  explain  what  the  inhabitants  of  the»e 
parts  understand  by  a  cache.  They  mean  a  hole  dug 
in  the  ground  with  very  great  care,  and  covered  over 
and  concealed  with  every  possible  precaution.  Yet 
the  Indians  often  discover  them  by  slight  signs,  which 
would  escape  any  other  than  men  accustomed  to  study 
Nature  in  its  minutest  details,  and  in  its  slightest 
changes.  I  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  describe  one 
of  these  caches,  where  the  hunters  of  the  prairie  and 
the  nomadic  Indians  bury  all  they  do  not  take  with 
them,  arms,  —  powder,  lead,  furs,  plumes,  and  others  of 
their  spoils  which  they  may  not  desire  to  carry  with 
them  until  their  return  to  civilization. 

"  Lewis  had  remarked  in  the  prairie  the  tracks  of 
wild  horses,  and,  presuming  that  a  band  of  these  ani 
mals  could  not  be  far  offj  wished  to  become  master 


THE  CACHE. —  HORSE-HUNTING.  59 

of  one  of  them  in  order  that  the  skin  of  the  bear 
might  be  easily  transported  to  the  cache  of  which  he 
had  spoken.  We  consequently  made  the  necessary 
preparations  to  pursue  one. 

"Having  carefully  spread  the  skin  on  the  ground, 
and  secured  it  with  large  stones  for  the  purpose  of 
preserving  its  shape,  we  covered  it  with  branches  and 
brush,  over  which  we  rolled  some  trunks  of  trees 
blown  down  by  the  wind,  or  struck  by  lightning. 
With  this  precaution,  we  had  no  occasion  to  fear  its 
destruction  by  wild  beasts.  We  left  the  flesh  of  the 
bear  to  the  vultures,  who  were  already  circling  about 
our  heads,  and  to  the  wolves,  whose  hoarse  howling 
we  could  hear  in  the  distant  woods. 

"After  lighting  a  fire,  we  made  an  excellent  meal 
off  one  of  the  paws  roasted  in  the  ashes ;  and  then, 
taking  our  arms,  we  directed  our  steps  towards  the 
upper  end  of  the  prairie,  keeping  the  Wind  against  us, 
so  as  not  to  be  discovered  by  the  wild  horses,  who 
have  an  extremely  keen  scent. 

"  Reaching  the  top  of  a  little  woody  hill,  we  saw,  in 
the  plain  beyond,  an  immense  troop  of  them  quietly 
feeding  on  the  thick  grass. 

"It  was  a  magnificent  sight.  The  superb  animals 
formed  the  most  varied  groups;  some  playing  to 
gether,  apparently  trying  their  speed,  others  immova 
ble,  with  neck  outstretched  and  ears  thrown  back, 


60  THE   PIIAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

expanded  nostrils  and  wandering  eyes,  as  thej  inter 
rogated  the  thousand  sounds  or  scents  which  might 
possibly  disturb  their  sense  of  security. 

"  Here  and  there,  mares,  surrounded  by  their  foals, 
watched  them  frisking  and  galloping  about,  when, 
suddenly  trembling  for  their  safety  at  the  distant  bark 
of  a  wolf,  or  the  cry  of  the  white  eagle,  they  drove 
them  before  them,  and  hastened  to  regain  the  main 
troop. 

"Three  splendid  animals  were  grazing  quietly  at 
some  little  distance  from  the  rest,  and  on  one  of  them 
Lewis  had  cast  his  eye  as  he  prepared  his  lasso. 

"The  lasso,  which  is  used  by  hunters  to  catch  horses, 
antelopes,  and  other  animals  alive,  consists  of  a  leath 
ern  string,  or  strap,  about  twenty  or  twenty-five  yards 
long,  one  end  of  which  the  hunter  holds  in  his  hand  if 
on  foot,  or  fastens  to  his  saddle  if  on  horseback.  The 
other  end  has  either  a  running  knot,  or  is  composed  of 
two  straps  six  or  eight  feet  long,  fastened  to  the  main 
strap,  and  having  at  their  extremity  a  ball  or  stone 
securely  fixed. 

"  The  lasso  used  by  Lewis  had  two  bullets  instead 
of  a  running  knot,  which  is  not  so  sure. 

"We  skirted  the  plain,  following  the  side  of  tlio 
woody  hill  where  we  had  entered  it,  and  hiding  our 
selves  cautiously  behind  the  bushes,  which  stretched 
down  to  that  part  of  the  level  ground  where  were  the 


THE   CACHE.  —  HORSE-HUNTING.  61 

three  horses.  When  about  five  hundred  feet  from 
them,  Lewis  told  me  not  to  move,  to  let  him  act,  and 
to  wait  till  he  should  call  if  he  needed  me.  He  then 
cut  a  number  of  branches,  with  which  he  made  a  sort 
of  artificial  bush,  which  shaded  him  completely,  and 
prevented  the  horses  from  perceiving  him.  After  this, 
holding  before  him  in  his  left  hand  this  movable  bush, 
and  in  his  right  the  lasso,  which  was  loosely  coiled 
over  his  right  shoulder,  bending  down,  he  slowly  and 
cautiously  descended  the  hill  towards  the  horses,  still 
avoiding  to  move  before  the  wind. 

"  Scarcely  had  he  advanced  fifty  feet  when  the 
animals  showed  signs  of  inquietude.  One  of  them 
especially,  who  was  the  nearest,  pricked  up  his  ears, 
looked  around  him,  sniffed  the  air ;  and  seeing  nothing 
in  the  bushes,  which  appeared  natural  enough,  he 
began  to  graze  again.  Lewis,  who  had  stopped,  re 
commenced  his  slow  and  measured  step,  almost  seem 
ing  to  creep  on  the  ground. 

"  Whenever  a  horse  raised  his  head,  and  turned  in  his 
directiojn,  Lewis  remained  motionless,  and  waited  pa 
tiently  till  the  animal  returned  to  his  grazing.  At  last, 
the  nearest  horse  was  only  thirty  feet  from  him.  Then 
throwing  down  his  artificial  bush,  no  longer  needed, 
he  threw  the  lasso  with  a  powerful  jerk  round  the  legs 
of  the  horse,  who  made  a  bound  to  escape.  However, 
before  his  feet  touched  the  ground  again,  the  balls  of 


62  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOb. 

the  lasso,  turning  rapidly,  were  twisted  around  them 
and  intertwisted,  and  the  poor  beast  fell  over  in  the 
grass. 

"At  the  movement  of  the  hunter  and  the  sound  of 
the  lasso,  the  two  other,  horses  started  with  lightning 
speed,  and  when  I  came,  at  the  call  of  Lewis,  they 
were  out  of  sight  in  company  with  the  rest  of  the 
troop.  Almost  in  an  instant,  this  plain,  which  had 
been  covered  with  beautiful  animals,  had  become  a 
silent  desert. 

"The  captive  sought,  with  violent  efforts,  to  free  him 
self  from  the  cords  which  bound  him;  but  the  efforts 
were  useless,  and  served  only  to  draw  them  still  tighter. 
He  tried  to  stand  upon  his  feet,  and  rolled  over  from 
side  to  side,  trying  to  seize  one  of  us  with  his  teeth. 

"  When  I  came  up,  Lewis  made  me  hold  the  lasso, 
and,  approaching  adroitly,  threw  a  piece  of  cloth  over 
the  head  of  the  animal,  which,  deprived  of  sight,  be 
came  more  quiet.  It  was  then  easy  to  fasten  his  legs 
so  that  he  could  rise  without  being  able  to  escape. 
And,  in  fact,  he  rose  immediately,  but  stood  still.  His 
whole  body  trembled,  and  an  abundant  perspiration 
streaked  his  panting  sides. 

"Lewis,  without  uncovering  his  eyes,  passed  a  cord 
around  his  mouth  to  prevent  biting,  and  blew  repeat 
edly  in  his  nostrils;  which  he  continued  to  do  for 
nearly  half  an  hour. 


THE   CACHE.  —  HORSE-HUNTING.  63 

"The  muscles  of  the  animal  gradually  relaxed 
Drooping  his  head,  his  knees  bent;  and  finally  ho 
dropped  upon  the  grass.  He  was  vanquished. 

"  Lewis  then  uncovered  his  eyes.  The  poor  beast 
looked  at  us  with  astonishment  and  fear,  but  did  not 
attempt  to  escape ;  and,  when  Lewis  made  him  rise,  he 
suffered  himself  to  be  led  to  the  nearest  tree,  where 
he  was  fastened  by  a  cord  long  enough  to  allow  him 
to  graze.  His  legs,  however,  were  still  bound,  so  as 
to  prevent  any  return  to  his  former  violence. 

"We  sat  down  at  a  little  distance,  and  refreshed 
ourselves  by  eating  something.  We  were  both  tired, 
Lewis  especially,  on  account  of  the  energetic  resist 
ance  of  our  captive. 

"  Before  starting  on  our  return  to  the  spot  where  we 
had  left  the  bear-skin,  Lewis  breathed  again  in  the 
nostrils  of  the  horse,  after  having  once  more  covered 
his  eyes.  He  was  now  submissive  enough,  and,  when 
they  were  uncovered  again,  was  almost  docile,  and 
walked  between  us.  We,  however,  each  held  the  end 
of  a  cord,  which  was  tied  to  him  by  way  of  precau 
tion.  Only  we  lengthened  the  cords  on  his  legs  in 
order  that  he  might  step  easily. 

"Approaching  the  rock  where  the  bloody  drama  had 
occurred  in  which  we  had  taken  part,  the  air  wag 
darkened  by  the  clouds  of  vultures  which  were  feast 
ing  on  the  body  of  the  bear,  tearing  from  each  other 


64  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

the  strips  of  flesh  which  they  had  disputed  with  » 
numerous  body  of  wolves. 

"  There  was  an  outrageous  noise ;  but  our  approach 
restored  order.  A  couple  of  gun-shots  drove  off  the 
marauders,  who,  however,  were  quarrelling  over  well- 
picked  bones;  for  they  had  lost  no  time,  and  nothing 
was  left  of  the  bear  but  the  skeleton,  to  which  adhered 
still  a  few  shreds  of  half-torn  flesh. 

"We  passed  several  days  near  this  spot.  It  was 
necessary  to  finish  the  education  of  our  horse,  which 
was  not  easy;  for  he  was  of  a  more  savage  nature  than 
prairie  horses  generally  are.  Once  overcome,  they  are 
ordinarily  easily  accustomed  to  obedience,  although 
quick  to  take  again  to  their  wild  life  on  the  first  oppor 
tunity.  Moreover,  Lewis  wished  to  profit  by  the  occa 
sion  to  increase  the  number  of  our  furs,  since  the  horse 
could  easily  transport  them  to  the  cache.  So  in  the 
morning  early,  Lewis  would  set  out  in  search  of  game, 
while  I  remained  to  keep  watch  over  our  horse,  pro 
visions,  and  skins. 

"  We  were  in  a  tolerably  safe  and  comfortable  spot, 
with  a  huge,  overhanging  rock  behind  us,  surrounded 
by  large  trees  and  bushes.  We  could  see  the  whole 
plain,  and  it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  man  or 
beast  to  approach  without  being  perceived.  In  case 
of  attack,  defence  was  easy :  so  Lewis  did  not  hesitate 
to  leave  me,  trusting  to  my  prudence  and  courage,  and 


THE   CACHE.  —  HORSE-HUNTING. 


65 


teady,  moreover,  to  hasten,  at  the  first  report  of  my 
gun,  to  the  rock. 

"Lewis  having  secured  as  many  furs  as  we  couM 
conveniently  transport,  one  morning  we  made  our 
preparations  to  depart.  The  skin  of  the  bear  was 
withdrawn  from  its  place  of  concealment,  and  found  in 
good  condition.  It  was  so  heavy,  that  our  united 
strength  was  necessary  to  put  it  on  the  back  of  the 
horse.  To  it  Lewis  added  his  other  skins,  and  our  pro 
visions,  and  we  set  out  for  the  spot  where  was  the  cache, 
in  which  we  expected  to  find  a  fresh  supply  of  ammu 
nition. 

"The  journey  was  accomplished  without  accident, 
and  the  next  day  we  reached  the  banks  of  a  magnifi 
cent  river,  a  branch  of  the   Missouri,  whose   limpid 
waters  rolled  between  two  prairies  covered  with  small 
groves  of  trees  and    most  brilliantly  varied  flowers. 
Lewis  stopped,  looked  around  him,  and  went  towards 
an  enormous   tree  whose  roots  were    extended   into 
the  water;   then  turning  his  back  to  the   river,   he 
counted  three  hundred   paces  into   the   prairie,  and 
marked  the  spot  with  the  branch  of  a  tree,     lie  then 
sought  the  bank  of  a  ravine,  whose  bed  was  dry,  and 
counted  thence  three  hundred  paces  at  right  angles 
with  his  first  path.     On  reaching  the  point  of  intersec 
tion,  he  struck  the  ground  with  the  butt  of  his  rifle, 
saying, '  Here  it  is.' 

5 


66  THE  PKAI1UK   CltUSOE. 

"  I  had  watched  his  proceeding  without  understand 
ing  it  at  all.  So  tying  the  horse  to  a  tree,  I  ran  to  the 
spot  where  Lewis  stood. 

"  *  This  is  the  spot,'  said  he,  *  and  I  believe  my  cache 
has  not  been  disturbed.' 

"I  observed  that  he  might  be  mistaken,  that  his 
paces  might  not  have  been  equally  measured,  and 
that  an  error  of  some  yards  was  quite  possible.  With 
out  replying,  he  took  me  to  a  little  distance,  and, 
pointing  out  the  place, — 

" '  Don't  you  see,'  said  he,  «  that,  for  a  square  yard  or 
so,  the  grass  is  greener  and  more  evenly  rich  than  else- 
w  here  ?  This  is  not  visible  when  we  are  close  to  it ; 
but,  at  this  distance,  it  might  discover  it  to  the  practised 
eye  of  an  Indian :  this  is  because,  the  earth  having 
been  loosened  and  disturbed,  the  herbage  over  it  has 
more  opportunity  to  extend  its  roots,  and  find  more 
abundant  nourishment  than  in  a  compact  soil.  A  more 
luxuriant  vegetation  is  the  inconvenient  indication  of  a 
cache ;  but  it  can  hardly  be  avoided.  And  now  lot  us 
to  work.' 

"  By  the  side  of  the  ravine  grew  large  quantities  of 
reeds,  and  we  cut  enough  to  make,  in  a  short  time,  half 
a  dozen  large,  coarse  mats,  good  enough,  however,  for 
the  use  intended. 

"  We  In  id  them  by  the  side  of  the  spot  where  we  were 
to  dig;  then,  with  our  knives,  we  cut  the  sods  in  squares, 


THE  CACHE.  —  HOUSE-HUNTING. 


67 


which  we  carefully  removed,  taking  care  not  to  disturb 
the  earth  on  their  roots.  When  the  sods  were  re 
moved,  it  was  necessary  to  remove  the  earth  below 
with  our  knives  and  hands,  and  place  it  on  the  mats 
which  surrounded  us. 

"This  was  a  long  and  fatiguing  labor,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  rest  from  time  to  time.  At  last,  after  two 
hours'  hard  work,  I  came  to  some  branches  which  were 
covering  packages  and  bundles  carefully  done  up  in 
coarse  skins. 

"  This  was  Lewis's  treasure. 

"  There  were  fine  rifles,  knives,  hatchets,  powder  and 
ball,  traps,  and  furs  of  all  kinds.  These  had  first  been 
wrapped  in  woollen  coverings,  and  afterwards  in  but- 
falo-hidcs. 

"We  enlarged  the  hole  in  order  to  accommodate 
our  new  riches,  and  after  having  taken  some  traps, 
ammunition,  and  a  long  Indian  knife,  which  Lewis 
gave  me,  we  replaced  the  rest  carefully,  adding  the 
bear-skin,  and  the  other  furs. 

"Then  came  the  work  of  throwing  in  the  earth 
again  with  our  hands,  and  treading  it  down  with  oui 
feet.  When  it  was  at  length  on  a  level  with  the  soil, 
we  replaced  the  sods  as  carefully  as  possible,  and  threw 
into  the  river  the  remaining  earth,  and  the  mats,  which 
were  no  longer  needed. 

"I  was  enchanted  with  our  work.     We  had  raised 


THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


up  again  the  plants,  which  were  trodden  down  by  oui 
Fett,  and,  at  a  little  distance,  the  spot  could  not  be  dis 
tinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  prairie ;  and  nothing, 
at>  least  I  thought  so,  could  lead  one  to  suspect  it." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A   TBIP    ON    THE  WATER.  —  THE  PURSUIT. 


were  to  continue  our  journey  on  foot,  and,  as 
we  needed  the  horse  no  longer,  Lewis  set  him  free. 

"The  noble  animal  seemed  astonished,  at  first,  at 
finding  himself  free  from  any  check  ;  but  he  did  not 
leave  us  at  once.  He  remained  near  us,  suffering  us 
to  caress  him,  and  cropping  the  grass  at  our  feet. 
Then  he  went  off  a  few  steps,  made  a  few  bounds,  and 
stopped  to  look  at  us.  All  at  once  he  threw  back  his 
ears,  and  raised  his  head  ;  then,  giving  a  loud  neigh, 
he  set  off  like  an  arrow  towards  the  bottom  of  the 
valley,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  out  of  sight. 

"  His  keen  scent  had  doubtless  revealed  the  where 
abouts  of  some  troop  of  horses. 

"  For  a  whole  fortnight,  our  journey  offered  no  inci 
dent  worth  mentioning. 

"We  travelled  towards  the  north,  setting  our 

69 


70  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

crossing  rivers  and  water-courses,  sometimes  by  fords> 
sometimes  on  rafts,  which  we  constructed  very  readily 
from  trunks  of  trees,  bound  together  with  reeds,  and 
which  we  hid  afterwards  in  the  bushes,  in  case  we 
might  return  on  our  steps. 

"  We  had  reached  the  territory  of  the  Blackfeet,  a 
savage  tribe,  then  at  war  with  the  whites,  and  to  which 
belonged  the  Indian  whom  we  had  saved  from  the 
claws  of  the  grisly  bear. 

"  Lewis  trusted  little,  he  said,  to  the  promises  of  the 
Jaguar;  for  while  admitting  that  he  might  remembei 
the  friendship  which  he  had  pledged  to  us,  and  the 
protection  which  he  had  promised  to  his  rescuers  (and 
this  was  probable,  as  the  red-skins  religiously  keep 
their  word),  still  he  might  not  be  a  chief  of  sufficient 
influence  to  shield  us  from  threatened  danger.  More 
over,  the  tribes  are  divided  into  sections,  obedient  to 
different  chiefs,  and  we  might  fall  into  the  hands  of 
Indians  who  would  sacrifice  us,  without  regard  to  his 
promises  or  interposition  on  our  behalf. 

"  Hence  we  advanced  with  very  great  prudence, 
keeping  under  cover  of  the  woods,  and  building  fires 
with  only  the  very  dryest  branches,  in  order  to  pro 
duce  the  least  possible  amount  of  smoke.  This  was 
only  done  to  prepare  our  food. 

"  We  had  encamped  on  the  shore  of  one  of  the 
branches  of  the  Missouri,  called  Jefferson's  Fork,  and 


A   TRIP  ON   THE  WATER.  1 

each  evening  we  set  our  traps  along  the  little  stream 
which  flowed  into  it.  At  sunrise  we  withdrew  our 
traps,  and  passed  the  day  in  preparing  the  skins  of  our 
game.  Lewis  had  designedly  chosen  this  spot  for 
remaining  several  days.  He  had  a  canoe  hidden  in 
the  reeds,  at  a  little  distance,  and,  as  the  number  of 
furs  were  too  great  for  us  to  carry  them  any  farther 
with  us,  it  was  necessary  to  dig  a  new  cache,  unless 
we  found  some  means  of  transport  for  our  booty. 

«  One  morning,  Lewis  went  to  seek  his  canoe,  leaving 
me  in  charge  of  the  camp.  Two  hours  afterwards, 
my  ear,  now  accustomed  to  the  sounds  of  the  prairie 
and  the  forest,  caught  that  of  an  oar,  striking  the 
water  with  precaution.  I  was  creeping  towards  the 
river  to  reconnoitre,  when  I  heard  the  cry  of  the  mar 
tin,  thrice  repeated.  This  was  the  signal  which  we 
had  agreed  upon,  and,  in  a  few  moments,  Lewis  showed 

himself. 

"His  canoe  was  built  in  the  Indian  fashion,  with 
room  for  eight  or  ten  persons,  while  two  could  easily 
manage  it.  Dug  out  of  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  it  was 
very  light,  sat  high  in  the  water,  and  rose  gracefully 
at  the  two  extremities.  A  long  pole  thrown  across 
the  middle  served  as  a  balance-weight.  We  pro 
ceeded  at  once  to  remove  our  various  articles  into  it, 
and  then,  hiding  the  canoe  again  in  the  reeds,  waited 
for  night  before  embarking. 


72  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"  We  were  to  go  down  Jefferson's  Fork  to  the  Mis- 
souri,  and  up  the  branch  where  was  Lewis's  cache, 
whence  we  would  seek  some  settlement,  and  make  our 
way  to  St.  Louis. 

"  It  was  not  without  regret  that  I  left  these  immense 
prairies,  amidst  which  Providence  had  cast  my  present 
life,  to  undertake  this  long  and  dangerous  voyage.  A 
feeling  of  sadness  possessed  my  heart;  and  I  scarcely 
know  what  gloomy  presentiment  made  me  regret  the 
life  which  I  had  led  since  my  happy  meeting  with 
Lewis. 

"  I  felt  the  same  attachment  to  him  as  to  a  brother. 
His  cool  intrepidity  in  danger,  the  wisdom  of  his  ad 
vice,  his  even  disposition,  his  solicitude  for  my  welfare, 
his  great  experience  in  our  present  life,  his  frankness, 
all  conspired  to  render  him  agreeable  to  all  who  met 
him,  and  whom  he  himself  might  feel  a  liking  for. 

"  But  our  voyage  was  to  end  in  separation,  perhaps 
forever.  I  did  not  let  Lewis  surmise  the  sentiments 
which  filled  my  heart,  and  tried  to  drive  away  my 
gloomy  forebodings,  as  I  prepared  for  our  departure. 

"When  night  was  come  we  embarked,  and,  taking 
the  middle  of  the  stream,  we  followed  the  current. 
The  sky  was  serenely  beautiful,  and,  although  the 
moon  was  not  above  the  horizon,  we  could  easily  dis 
tinguish  the  banks  of  the  Fork.  They  were  high  and 
steep,  and  threw  their  shadows  far  into  the  river 


A   TRIP   ON  THE   WATER.  73 

Enormous  trees  grew  on  the  rocky  sides  of  it,  and 
from  their  branches  numerous  parasites  hung,  even  to 
the  water's  edge.  Occasionally  the  shores  approached 
each  other  quite  closely,  leaving  but  a  narrow  channel, 
which  was  entirely  overshadowed  by  the  overhanging 
foliage. 

"  Glow-worms  and  fire-flies  glimmered  with  their 
phosphorescent  light,  in  and  above  the  grass,  flashing 
here  and  there  like  will-o'-the-wisps. 

"  Far  away  we  could  hear  the  noise  of  the  foxes  and 
wolves,  as  well  as  an  occasional  jaguar.  Nothing 
could  be  more  charming  than  this  calm  and  tranquil 
night,  where  our  frail  bark  alone  announced  the  pres 
ence  of  man. 

"  When  day  dawned,  we  drew  up  our  canoe  to  the 
reedy  shore,  and,  concealing  it  carefully,  passed  the 
day  at  the  foot  of  a  large  tree,  or  under  a  large  rock ; 
for  we  were  not  to  travel  by  day  until  we  had  passed 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  territory  of  the  Blackfeet. 

"The  third  evening  of  our  voyage  was  dark  and 
cloudy.  The  bed  of  the  river  was  scarcely  visible, 
and,  in  narrow  places,  we  found  it  difficult  to  keep  the 
middle  of  the  channel,  avoiding  the  branches  and 
vines,  which  might  have  overturned  our  canoe. 

"  We  had  been  about  two  hours  on  our  way,  when 
Lewis  told  me  to  stop  the  paddle,  and  bent  down  to 
the  surface  of  the  water  to  listen. 


74 


THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


" '  We  are  followed  ! '  said  he.     '  Listen  ! ' 
"  I  did  so,  and  heard  distinctly  the  sound  of  oars  in 
the  water. 

"  This  fact  could  but  indicate  danger,  which  must  bo 
avoided  at  any  price;  and  we  began  to  urge  along  our 
vflnoe  as  fast  as  possible. 

"  It  sped  along  like  an  arrow,  but,  in  spite  of  our 
efforts,  the  sound  behind  us  grew  louder  and  more  dis 
tinct.  We  were  evidently  losing  ground,  and,  in  a 
short  time,  we  must  be  overtaken  by  those  who  were 
in  pursuit. 

"At  this  moment  we  heard  the  most  frightful  yells. 
The  Blackfeet  (for  it  was  they  who  pursued)  had  long 
heard  us  moving  ahead  of  them,  and  perceiving  by 
the  speed  we  were  making,  as  well  as  by  the  sound  of 
our  paddles,  that  we  were  on  our  guard,  they  did  not 
hesitate  to  betray  their  presence. 

"Their  yells,  resounding  from  shore  to  shore,  were 
absolutely  demoniacal.  The  birds,  awakened  by  the 
clamor,  flew  about  uttering  sharp  cries,  and  the  wild 
beasts  bounded  away  from  the  shores  to  their  haunts. 

"  *  We  are  probably  lost,'  said  Lewis.  '  There  is  but 
one  chance  for  safety,  and  I  will  try  it.  To  attempt  a 
struggle  would  be  a  folly,  and  could  but  retard  our 
death  for  a  short  time.' 

"  A  little  in  front  of  where  we  were,  stretched  out 
several  feet  over  the  water,  was  an  enormous  tree,  half 


A  TRIP  ON   THE   WATER.  Tu 

overturned  in  some  hurricane.  To  this  Lewis  guided 
the  canoe.  We  slung  our  guns  over  our  shoulder, 
and,  as  we  passed  under  the  tree,  caught  hold  of  its 
branches,  and  in  a  moment  had  concealed  ourselves  in 
its  dense  foliage. 

"Lewis,  with  a  blow  of  his  foot,  had  sent  the  canoe 
into  the  current,  and  we  saw.it  rapidly  float  away  with 
every  thing  which  we  possessed,  and  which  we  had 
labored  so  hard  to  collect. 

"  In  a  very  short  time,  four  pirogues,  each  containing 
from  fifteen  to  twenty  Indians,  passed  before  us. 

"'It  is  a  respite,'  said  Lewis;  'but  the  danger  is  not 


over: 


"In  fact,  he  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words,  when 
we  heard  their  cries  of  rage.  They  had  found  our 
canoe  empty,  and  were  vociferating  loudly  at  the 
disappointment.  After  this,  silence  once  more  reigned 
complete.11 


CHAPTER  X. 


TBB    FIGHT.  —  LOSS    OP    A    FRIEND.  —  WILLIAM    A 
PRISONER. 

"OiiR  situation  was  critical;  for  to  one  who  knew 
the  habits  of  the  red-skins,  as  Lewis  did,  it  was  certain 
that  they  had  not  renounced  their  pursuit  of  us,  and 
that  they  would  explore  the  neighborhood  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  prevent  our  eluding  capture  by  them. 

"  For  two  days  and  two  nights,  we  remained  in  the 
tree  which  had  saved  us.  Our  strength  had  been 
maintained  by  some  slices  of  smoked  beef,  which 
Lewis  had  taken  the  precaution  to  put  in  his  game- 
bag,  and  we  descended  a  branch  with  great  precaution 
to  drink  from  the  river.  But  our  slender  stock  of  pro 
visions  was  now  completely  exhausted,  and,  come  what 
might,  we  were  obliged  to  leave  our  shelter. 

"  After  examining  our  arms,  and  being  satisfied  that 
they  were  all  right,  we  began  to  climb  tae  rock  where 
hung  the  tree  which  had  been  our  protection.  Reach- 

77 


78  THE  PI1AIRIE  CRUSOE. 

ing  the  summit,  we  examined  the  country  careful!} 
and,  seeing  nothing  to  awaken  suspicion,  we  set  out. 

"  After  something  more  than  an  hour's  walk,  during 
which  the  most  perfect  silence  was  observed  by  us,  we 
had  reached  a  narrow  piece  of  ground  between  the 
woods  and  the  river,  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  some 
twenty  Indians  rose,  with  a  yell  of  triumph,  from  the 
bushes,  and  dashed  towards  us. 

"  We  were  ready  in  a  moment  to  receive  them,  and 
the  first  two  who  approached  fell,  struck  by  our  bullets 
in  the  chest.  At  this  sight,  the  rest  were  for  a  moment 
undecided ;  and  we  profited  by  the  delay  to  gain  the 
bank  of  the  river,  at  a  sandy  spot  free  from  bushes. 
There,  hatchet  in  hand,  for  immediate  protection,  we 
reloaded  our  pieces. 

"But  a  short  distance  from  us,  there  was  a  canoe, 
which  Lewis  told  me,  in  English,  to  approach  gradu 
ally,  while  he  kept  them  at  bay.  I  obeyed  immedi 
ately;  but  our  project  was  suspected,  and  a  warrioi  ran 
hastily  to  cut  me  off. 

"  There  was  no  time  to  hesitate ;  so  I  ran  at  liim, 
and,  before  he  could  defend  himself,  a  blo\v  of  my 
hatchet  despatched  him. 

"  To  jump  into  the  canoe,  and  cut  the  cord,  was  but 
a,  moment's  work.  In  another  minute,  Lewis  jumped 
into  the  water,  and  was  by  my  side.  A  shower  of 
arrows  fell  about  us ;  but  we  thought  only  of  flight. 


THE   FIGHT.  —  LOSS   OF   A    F1UEND.  79 

"  We  had  gained  the  current,  when  two  canues  full 
of  warriors  left  the  other  shore,  and  came  straight 
towards  us.  The  Indians  who  pursued  us  swam  out, 
and,  in  a  moment,  we  were  surrounded  on  all  sides. 

"We  fought  bravely,  but  without  hope;  and,  at 
last,  I  saw  my  poor  Lewis,  struck  by  an  arrow,  fall  into 
the  river,  and  disappear. 

"I  was  seized  with  despair,  which  redoubled  my 
strength.  I  could  see  nothing  around  me,  and  the 
resistance  which  my  arm  received  alone  indicated  to 
me  when  I  had  struck  an  assailant. 

"  Worn  out  at  last,  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  I  fell 
in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  and  the  knives  of  the  In 
dians  flashed  over  me,  when  a  warrior  leaped  into  the 
boat,  and,  dashing  aside  the  weapons,  exclaimed,  — 

" '  Stop !  the  pale-face  is  brave  and  courageous.  lie 
has  made. the  blood  of  our  brethren  flow.  His  death 
in  the  battle  would  be  too  sweet.  He  ought  to  be 
fastened  to  the  stake.' 

"  Cries  of  joy  welcomed  these  words.  In  an  instant, 
I  was  bound,  taken  on  the  shoulders  of  a  captor,  and 
placed  upon  the  shore. 

"  I  was  in  deep  grief,  not  at  the  tortures  which  were 
soon  to  try  me,  but  at  the  loss  of  my  good  Lewis.  I 
could  only  think  of  him. 

"He  had  fallen  while  defending  my  life.  It  was 
partly  for  my  sake  that  he  had  undertaken  the  trip, 


80  THE   PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

and  I  reproached  myself  as  being  the  cause  of  his 
death.  I  had  seen  him  sink  beneath  the  blows  of  fero 
cious  enemies,  and  now  understood  better  than  ever 

> 
before  how  dear  he  indeed  was  to  me. 

"I  felt  that  man  is  not  created  to  live  alone,  and 
that  the  instinct  of  sociability  which  God  has  placed  in 
our  soul  is  a  law  which  we  must  perforce  obey. 

"The  friendship  of  which  Lewis  had  spoken  was 
revealing  itself  in  me,  and  I  felt  as  if  part  of  my  very 
being  was  gone  with  the  companion  of  my  life. 

"  In  order,  however,  that  my  weakness  might  not  be 
interpreted  as  cowardice,  I  succeeded  in  overcoming 
my  sorrow,  and  intimated  to  those  who  carried  me, 
that,  not  being  wounded,  I  wished  to  walk. 

"  They  put  me  down,  and  a  warrior  came  up  to 
loosen  the  cords  which  bound  my  feet.  As  he  bent 
over  me,  I  seemed  to  hear  a  low  voice  whisper  in  my 
ear,  ''Silence^  hope!"*  Raising  my  eyes,  I  saw  the 
same  Indian  who  had  turned  aside  the  weapons  of 
death  in  the  canoe.  It  was  the  Jaguar,  whom  Lewis 
and  myself  had  saved  from  the  bear.  I  kept  quiet, 
exchanging  a  rapid  glance  with  him,  and  we  renewed 
our  march. 

"  After  two  hours  of  fatiguing  progress  through  the 
woods,  we  came  to  a  clearing,  in  the  midst  of  which 
was  the  camp  of  the  Blackfeet. 

"  It  was  a  summer  village,  composed  of  huts  located 


THE    FIGHT.  —  LOSS  OF   A    FRIEND.  81 

without  any  regard  to  symmetry.  In  the  midst  of  it 
was  a  large  open  space,  reserved  for  their  assemblies. 

"  A  stake  was  quickly  arranged  in  the  middle,  and 
I  was  bound  to  it  securely  by  thongs  of  buffalo-hide. 

"  They  placed  before  me  the  bodies  of  the  warriors 
slain  by  Lewis  and  myself,  while  two  men  sat  by  rny 
side  to  prevent  any  attempt  at  escape. 

t;  All  the  braves  of  the  tribe  entered  one  hut  much 
larger  than  the  others,  where,  evidently,  a  council  was 
being  held  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  my  fate. 

"  Meanwhile,  the  wives  and  sisters  of  the  dead  war 
riors  uttered  most  lamentable  cries,  and  tore  their  hair, 
seeking  vainly,  as  it  were,  to  restore  life  to  the  bodies 
already  stiffened  and  cold  in  death. 

"  They  overwhelmed  me  with  reproaches,  threw  sand 
and  stones  at  me,  and  flew  at  me  to  tear  me  with  their 
nails.  Indeed,  I  should  have  perished  by  their  hands, 
had  it  not  been  for  rny  two  guards. 

"The  council  was  not  long.  The  Blackfeet  came 
out,  uttering  loud  yells,  and  one  of  the  chiefs  came  to 
tell  me,  that,  as  I  had  been  brave  in  combat,  I  was  to 
die  the  death  of  the  brave,  —  by  fire. 

"  Immediately  the  women  began  to  bring  armfuls  of 
Kticks.  These  were  dry,  in  order  that  the  smoke  might 
not  be  too  thick,  and  suffocate  me  before  I  could  feel 
the  terrible  fire.  They  placed  them  at  a  little  distance 
from  the  stake,  through  a  refinement  of  cruelty,  tha 


6 


82  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

my  punishment  might  be  longer,  and  my  tortures  the 
greater. 

"I  had  committed  my  soul  to  God,  and  bidden 
adieu  to  all  that  I  held  dear  on  earth.  My  memory 
carried  me  back  to  the  happy  days  of  my  childhood, 
and  I  was  enabled  to  preserve  a  cairn  demeanor 
throughout  these  horrid  preparations. 

"I  had  injured  no  one,  save  to  defend  my  threatened 
life.  I  had  exposed  my  own  existence  to  save  that  of 
my  fellows.  I  had  invariably  followed  the  wise  advice 
of  my  adopted  father  and  the  baron,  and  now,  confid 
ing  in  the  divine  mercy,  I  prepared  to  rejoin  the 
worthy  Berchtold  and  my  good  Lewis  in  the  eternal 
heaven,  whither  they  had  preceded  me. 

"  This  calmness,  which  I  drew  from  my  belief  and  the 
purity  of  my  conscience,  was  looked  upon  by  the  In 
dians  as  bravado,  and  an  insult  to  their  preparations. 

"They  overwhelmed  me  with  the  vilest  reproaches 
and  insults,  hoping  to  arouse  my  anger;  but,  given  up 
to  my  sweet  memories  and  Christian  hopes,  my  face 
was  unmoved  and  impassible. 

"  Then  commenced  their  dance  of  death. 

"  Each  warrior,  armed  for  the  combat,  made  a  thou 
sand  contortions  to  the  sound  of  their  almost  infernal 
music,  and  sprang  at  me  as  if  to  end  my  agony  at  a 
blow.  It  was  as  if  they  had  wagered  as  to  who  should 
show  the  greatest  skill  in  hurling  their  tomahawk  of 


THE   FIGHT. — LOSS   OF   A    FRIEND.  83 

their  darts  at  the  stake  in   closest  proximity  to  my 
head. 

"The  Jaguar  was  among  the  others,  and  made  him 
self  remarkable  by  his  anger  and  rage  when  he  ap 
proached  me.  Twice  I  thought  he  was  about  to  cleave 
my  head  with  a  blow  of  his  tomahawk ;  but  he  was  re 
strained  by  those  who  accompanied  him,  and  who  did 
not  wish  to  be  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  assisting  at 
my  sufferings  when  the  pile  should  at  last  be  lit." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  GRATITUDE  OP  THE  JAGUAR.  —  MY  ESCAPE. 

"  DURING  these  preparations,  the  sky  had  gradually 
become  covered  with  dense  clouds,  rolling  over  it  from 
the  horizon.  Indeed,  every  thing  denoted  a  speedy 
and  violent  storm.  Nor  was  it  long  before  it  burst 
forth  in  all  its  savage  strength.  A  heavy  rain  fell 
upon  us,  accompanied  by  vivid  flashes  of  lightning, 
and  almost  continuous  peals  of  thunder,  which,  in  a 
very  brief  space  of  time,  inundated  the  whole  village. 
It  was,  therefore,  by  common  consent,  decided  that  my 
punishment  was  to  be  deferred  ;  and  the  elders  of  the 
tribe  appointed  the  dawn  of  the  next  day  for  it 
to  take  place  upon.  I  was  then,  as  they  said,  to  go 
and  rejoin  my  fathers,  in  the  abode  of  the  Gr^U  Spirit. 

"  It  was  the  Jaguar  who  came  to  free  me  from  the 
stake. 

a  After  making  me  take  some  food,  in  the  n  <M  of  a 

85 


80  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

circle  of  Indians,  who  looked  on  in  dead  silence,  he  led 
me  away  to  the  eastern  end  of  the  village.  Here  he 
bound  me  to  a  large  pine-tree,  and  as  the  storm  had 
now  mitigated  its  first  violence,  and  the  clouds  were 
rapidly  passing  away,  a  fire  was  lighted  before  me,  and 
four  Blackfeet  crouched  by  it,  prepared  to  watch  their 
prisoner  through  the  night. 

"  The  Jaguar  had  placed  me  with  my  face  turned 
towards  the  fire.  As  he  passed  the  thongs  around  my 
waist,  and  knotted  them  on  my  wrists,  he  said  nothing. 
But  as  he  passed  behind  the  pine,  to  fasten  them  to 
its  trunk,  I  heard  him  say,  in  an  undertone  which  was 
scarcely  a  whisper,  — 

"  'Let  not  my  pale  brother  speak,  but  let  him  listen, 
and  pay  attention  to  the  voice  of  the  owl  when  he 
hears  it.' 

"Without  uttering  another  word,  he  turned,  and 
disappeared  among  the  huts  of  the  village. 

"Three  hours  passed  away,  which  may  safely  be 
named  as  three  of  the  longest  hours  I  had  ever  known. 
At  first,  I  had  reflected  upon  the  words  of  the  Jaguar 
with  something  akin  to  hope ;  but,  after  a  while,  I  re 
lapsed  into  an  apathetic  indifference  to  my  condition, 
as  I  reflected  upon  its  hopelessness,  and  my  thoughts 
reverted  to  the  baron,  to  Stanislas,  and  to  little  Bertha. 
What,  I  thought,  would  be  their  feelings,  did  they  know 
to  what  a  doom  the  poor  boy  whom  they  had  loved 


THE  GRATITUDE   OF   THE  JAGUAR.  87 

and  befriended  was  now  exposed.  I  am  not  ashamed 
to  say,  that,  as  I  thought  of  this,  the  big  tears  were 
running  down  my  cheeks.  Even  while  they  were 
doing  so,  my  reflections  were  almost  insensibly  turned 
to  Berchtold  and  his  teachings.  I  remembered  that 
he  had  taught  me  always  to  depend  upon  Providence, 
and  to  place  my  faith  in  its  sustaining  power,  and  I 
uttered  a  brief  but  heartfelt  prayer  to  it  not  to  aban 
don  me.  As  it  then  seemed  to  me,  my  heart  grew 
stronger,  and  I  could  more  firmly  regard  my  terrible 
bituation. 

"  The  fire  in  front  of  me  had  now  burned  down  to  its 
embers.  Only  an  occasional  and  brief  flash  showed 
that  it  was  still  alive.  The  Indians  who  had  been 
watching  me,  and  who  had  several  times  come  to  ex 
amine  the  thongs  which  bound  me  to  the  pine,  were 
also  sunken  in  slumber. 

"My  head  had  fallen  upon  my  shoulder,  and  I  was 
almost  fallen  into  a  sleep  as  deep  as  that  which  had 
eeized  upon  my  guards,  when  I  heard  the  cry  of  the 
owl. 

"  Opening  my  eyes,  I  suddenly  raised  my  head  as 
quietly  as  possible.  Every  thing  was  hushed  and  quiet 
around  me.  The  four  Blackfeet  were  all  sleeping. 
None  of  them  had  been  aroused  by  the  cry  I  had 
heard. 

"It  was  not  immediately  repeated.      Suspense  actu- 


88  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

ally  parched  my  tongue  until  it  clove  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth,  and  caused  my  heart  to  beat  so  violently  that 
I  actually  heard  it.  For  more  than  five  minutes,  I 
heard  nothing  save  it,  and  the  regular  breathing  of  my 
guards.  Then  the  cry  was  a  second  time  repeated. 
This  time,  it  was  but  at  a  short  distance. 

"Again  I  listened  for  it,  and  again  I  had  to  endure 
another  period  of  this  agonizing  suspense. 

"Suddenly,  words  were  uttered  in  a  whisper  close 
to  my  ear;  and,  although  I  knew  the  voice  of  the 
Jaguar,  such  was  the  exteme  and  painful  tension  to 
which  my  faculties  had  been  subjected,  that  I  believe 
I  must  have  cried  out,  had  it  not  been  for  the  warning 
which  they  contained. 

" '  Let  my  white  brother  neither  speak  nor  stir,'  he 
said,  '  until  the  Jaguar  bids  him.' 

"About  thrpc  minutes  later,  I  felt  a  quick,  sharp 
movement  which  severed  the  thongs  of  buffalo-hide 
that  bound  me  to  the  pine. 

" '  Let  my  pale  brother  pass  behind  the  tree.' 

"  Slowly,  and  as  noiselessly  as  possible,  I  did  so,  and 
was  quickly  on  the  other  side.  The  Jaguar  was 
standing  there.  With  the  keen  edge  of  his  toma 
hawk,  he  divided  the  thongs  which  were  attached  to 
my  wrists,  and,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  rapidly 
after  him  into  the  thickest  of  the  woods. 

"For  nearly  an  hour,  he  walked  on  without  uttering 


THE  GRATITUDE  OF  THE  JAGUAR.       89 

a  word.  I  followed  him;  for,  after  we  had  left  the 
village  behind  us,  he  released  my  hand,  in  order  that 
our  movements  might  be  more  free  and  unencum 
bered.  At  length,  we  emerged  from  the  trees  upon  an 
open  space  bordered  by  a  ravine.  Here  he  stopped 
and  turned  to  me,  and,  in  the  shadows  of  the  night,  I 
could  notice  his  gesture  of  dignity  as  he  spoke  to 
me. 

" 4  The  Jaguar  promised  to  remember.    Has  he  done 

so?' 

"  I  made  a  motion  of  acquiescence. 

" '  His  pale  brother  saved  his  life.  To-day,  in  turn, 
the  Jaguar  rescues  him  from  death.  Pie  would  have 
saved  the  Prairie-hunter  also;  but  it  was  too  late. 
Blood  had  been  shed.  The  Jaguar  sought  for  his 
body,  that  the  flesh  of  a  brave  man  might  not  become 
the  prey  of  the  cayote  and  vulture ;  but  he  could  not 
find  it.' 

"  He  also  informed  me  that  he  had  been  the  leader 
of  the  Blackfeet  in  two  expeditions,  which  they  had 
undertaken  against  the  whites.  Both  of  these  had 
failed.  Having  thus  lost,  not  only  his  command,  but 
his  influence  with  the  tribe,  he  had,  for  this  reason, 
employed  a  ruse  to  save  me,  instead  of  asking  my  life 
as  an  equivalent  for  the  service  I  had  done  him. 

"  *  The  pale-faces,'  he  added, '  marched  into  one  of 
our  villages  while  the  warriors  were  at  the  chase. 


00  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

They  murdered  our  women,  our  children,  and  our 
old  men.  The  Blackfeet  have  long  memories.  They 
do  not  forget.  They  have  sworn  that  no  pale-face 
who  falls  into  their  hands  shall  live.  Let  my  brother 
depart  as  quickly  as  he  can ;  for  his  red  kinsman  cannot 
save  him  twice.' 

"  Having  said  this,  he  gave  me  a  tomahawk  and  a 
knife,  which  he  had  brought  with  him ;  then,  pointing 
out  the  direction  in  which  the  river  lay,  he  advised  me 
to  cross  it  by  swimming,  and  to  travel  along  its  far 
ther  bank.  After  this,  pressing  my  hand,  he  disap 
peared  again  upon  his  homeward  path. 

"  Once  more  I  stood  alone,  at  night,  in  the  midst  of 
a  dense  forest.  No  road  or  settled  path  was  marked 
through  it,  and  I  felt  myself  to  be  surrounded  in  it, 
not  alone  by  savage  beasts,  but  by  still  more  savage 
and  remorseless  foes. 

"My  hopefulness  and  buoyancy  of  spirit,  however, 
rarely  desert  me,  where  I  have  any  chance  given  me  to 
display  either  my  own  skill  or  my  own  endurance. 
Summoning  all  my  courage,  and  confiding  in  that  di 
vine  assistance,  which,  as  yet,  had  never  failed  me,  I 
turned  my  steps  in  the  direction  which  had  been 
pointed  out  to  me  by  the  Jaguar.  Fatigued  as  I  was 
with  the  exertions  of  the  previous  day,  and  the  want 
of  sleep  this  night,  I  nevertheless  kept  on,  and,  towards 
morning,  found  myself  on  the  bank  of  a  little  stream 


THE  GRATITUDE  OF  THE  JAGUAR. 


01 


which  was  almost  hidden  by  reerts  and  bushes.  For 
cing  my  way  through  them,  heedless  of  possible  danger, 
I  flung  myself  down  on  my  knees  by  it  and  dranfc 
eagarly;  for  I  was  almost  perishing  with  thirst." 


CHAPTER  XH. 

> 

RECAPTURE.  —  THE   RACE   FOR  LIFE. 

w  AFTER  appeasing  my  thirst,  I  gazed  on  every  side, 
for  the  dawn  was  just  coloring  the  eastern  horizon. 
Seeing  no  indications  of  danger  (for  I  was  not  yet  as 
keen-sighted  and  suspiciously  alert  as  the  Indians  are), 
I  jumped  into  the  water,  and  swam  across. 

"  Reaching  its  opposite  bank  in  safety,  I  was  on  the 
point  of  uttering  a  fervent  thanksgiving  for  my  deliv 
erance,  as  I  was  crossing  the  reedy  ground  which  bor 
dered  it,  when  five  or  six  warriors  of  the  Blackfeet 
rushed  upon  me,  and,  before  I  could  even  make  use  of 
my  tomahawk  or  knife,  I  was  thrown  down,  deprived 
of  them,  bound,  and  rendered  completely  powerless. 

"My  flight  had  been  discovered  within  an  hour 
after  my  departure,  and  the  Blackfeet  had  at  once 
commenced  pursuit. 

"  Divining  that  my  course  would  be  in  the  direction 


THE  PKA1UIE  CRUSOE. 


of  the  river,  a  large  party  had  hurried  towards  and 
crossed  it,  dispersing  themselves  along  its  bank  to 
entrap  me,  while  a  smaller  party  were  behind  me 
carefully  following  my  trail,  which  was  easily  to  be 
detected  on  the  damp  ground.  As  this  party  of  tho 
Indians  had  the  gloom  of  the  night  to  contend  with  in 
tracking  it,  they  had  not  overtaken  me  ;  and  I  fell  into 
the  ambuscade  which  their  companions  had  prepared. 

"  I  was  brought  back  to  the  village,  where  my  arrival 
was  greeted  with  cries  of  joy. 

"The  chief  of  the  tribe  approached  me  on  my 
entrance,  and,  having  bid  the  Indians  strip  me  of  my 
clothing,  gave  orders  to  them  to  fasten  me  once  more 
to  the  stake. 

"  '  The  pale-faces,  then,  are  cowards,'  said  he  with  a 
tone  of  contempt,  '  because  they  fly  from  death.  They 
can  cut  the  throats  of  women  and  children,  but  pun 
ishment  makes  them  afraid.  They  have  the  feet  of  a 
deer,  the  teeth  of  the  wolf,  but  the  heart  of  a  squaw.' 

"  One  warrior  recommended  that  I  should  be  given 
up  to  the  women  and  children,  who  were  eager,  as  he 
remarked,  to  take  away  the  life  of  a  timid  and  cow 
ardly  pale-face. 

"  This  proposal  was  received  with  yells,  arid  shrieks 
of  delight,  by  the  females  and  younger  portion  of  the 
tribe. 

"Then  the  Jaguar  spoke. 


RECAPTURE.  —  THE   RACE    FOR   LIFE.  95 

"  His  eyes  flashed  with  a  savage  scorn  ;  and,  but  for 
the  incidents  of  the  past  night,  I  should  have  believed 
him  more  thirsty  for  my  blood  than  any  of  his  breth 
ren. 

" '  Fire  is  the  death  of  a  brave.  The  white-face  who 
fle "  from  death  would  shrink  with  dread  at  the  si^ht 

O 

of  the  flames.  Fear  would  deprive  him  of  life  long 
before  he  felt  any  pain.  Since  he  knows  how  to  run, 
and  has  swift  feet,  like  an  antelope,  let  my  brothers 
conduct  him  to  the  prairie,  north  of  the  village.  There 
we  will  hunt  him,  and  slay  him  with  our  arrows.  The 
tomahawk  should  be  stained  only  with  the  blood  of 
men,  and  this  is  a  squaw,  —  a  milky-faced  squaw. 
When  we  shall  have  killed  him,  we  can  hang  up  his 
scalp  at  the  council-wigwam,  and  point  it  out  as  that 
of  a  white  man  who  was  a  coward.' 

"  This  cruel  proposition  was  instantly  received  with 
shouts  of  joy,  and  they  ran  at  once  to  provide  them 
selves  with  their  arrows  or  their  lances. 

"  The  chief  asked  me  if  I  knew  how  to  run. 

"  I  replied  scornfully,  that  the  whites  knew  how  to 
run  only  towards  their  enemies,  but  that,  if  I  had  to 
die,  it  would  matter  but  little  how  or  in  what  manner, 

"  Now,  it  happened  that  amongst  rny  comrades,  as 
a  lad,  while  in  Europe,  I  had  always  been  noted  as  a 
swift  ranner.  Indeed,  more  than  once,  my  fleetness 
of  foot  had  been  praised  as  something  remarkable, 


96  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

Of  course,  the  Jaguar  could  not  have  divined  this, 
His  proposal  had  been  made  simply  to  give  me  a 
chance  of  safety,  while  fearing  that  it  could  not  po,:.si- 
bly  prove  effectual.  Thus  he  endeavored  to  shield  me 
with  his  protection  as  ably  and  as  long  as  he  by  any 
means  could. 

"  To  let  myself  be  slain,  without  attempting  to  save 
that  life  which  had  been  given  me  by  God,  was  cer 
tainly  not  an  act  of  courage.  Neither  could  my  flight 
before  so  many  armed  enemies  be  justly  considered  an 
act  of  cowardice.  As  I  reflected  upon  these  consid 
erations,  my  decision  was  speedily  made  not  even  yet 
to  abandon  all  hope. 

"  I,  therefore,  asked  the  chief  that  I  might  have  the 
permission  given  me  to  wear  my  moccasons. 

" l  The  pale-face  wishes,'  said  the  Jaguar  with  a  sneer, 
4  to  go  to  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  dead  without  a 
scratch  upon  his  feet.  We  will  let  him  do  so.' 

"  They  then  led  me  to  an  immense  prairie,  which 
extended  parallel  with  the  forest  as  far  as  the  river 
where  I  had  been  recaptured,  and  gave  me  a  start  of 
about  one  thousand  feet  in  advance  of  them.  This 
was  the  only  chance  given  me. 

"No  time  for  reflection  was,  however,  left  me.  I 
had  to  run  for  my  life;  and,  as  I  dashed  out  at  my  full 
speed,  a  savage  yell  arose  on  the  air,  and  announced  to 
me  that  the  Blackfeet  had  commenced  their  cruel 
hunt. 


RECAPTURE.  —  THE  RACE   FOR  LIFE.  97 

«  It  was  with  a  rapidity  like  that  of  the  chamois, 
that  I-flew  over  the  ground.  I  was  astonished  at  my 
own  light-footedness.  My  moccasons  seemed  fledged 
with  the  wind.  My  feet  scarcely  seemed  to  touch  the 
ground.  There  were,  however,  several  miles  of  prairie 
to  be  passed  before  I  might  hope  to  reach  the  river; 
and  although  for  the  moment  the  excitement  had 
subdued  my  fatigue,  and  lent  my  muscles  fresh  vigor, 
I  could  not  help  questioning  myself  as  to  the  possibility 
of  my  holding  out  until  I  should  reach  the  stream. 
Besides,  fleetly  as  I  might  be  able  to  run,  was  it  not 
probable  that  some  one  of  the  younger  Blackfeet 
might  have  as  nimble  feet  as  mine  ? 

"As  this  occurred  to  me,  an  arrow  whistled  through 
the  air  close  to  my  ears,  and  I  knew  that  this  last  idea 
must  be  correct.  Several  other  arrows  followed  the 
lira. 

*  Putting  out  my  fiercest  energy,  I  dashed  on  in 
spite  ot  the  underbrush,  and  long,  sharp  reeds  of  the 
prame.  wmcn  cui  ana  tore  my  legs,  causing  them  to 
bleed  coinousrv. 

"  I  had  already  crossed  more  than  half  of  the  plain, 
without  daring  to  turn  my  neaa,  because  I  was  afraid 
any  such  movement  mignt  make  me  -ose  givand,  when 
it  seemed  to  me  that  the  sound  of  tne  liuiian,*  <n  pur 
suit  was  gradually  growing  fainter  and  less  mstinex. 

"Venturing,  for  a  moment,  to  turn  my  head,  I  saw 
7 


98  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

that  the  great  mass  of  the  pursuing  warriors  was  now 
quite  distant.  Several  of  their  most  speedy  runners 
were,  however,  much  in  the  advance,  and  by  far  too 
close  upon  my  heels.  One  warrior,  indeed,  more  alert 
than  the  rest,  was  scarcely  more  than  three  hundred 
feet  from  me.  He  was  armed  with  a  long  lance. 

"  Filled  with  fresh  hopes  of  escape,  in  spite  of  my 
gradually  overmastering  fatigue,  I  redoubled  my  ef 
forts.  So  long  a  race  was,  however,  in  my  present 
condition,  too  much  for  me.  A  mist  came  across  my 
eyes,  my  temples  throbbed  violently,  and  my  knees 
quivered  under  me.  Blood  flowed  both  from  my 
mouth  and  nose,  and  I  felt  it  dropping  heavily  upon 
my  chest. 

"  I  was  still  three-quarters  of  a  mile  or  more  from  the 
river,  whose  cool  and  green  water  I  saw  stretching  be 
fore  me.  Another  look  thrown  back  showed  me  that 
my  foremost  pursuer's  strength  had  not  been  failing  so 
rapidly  as  mine.  He  was  now  scarcely  more  than 
eighty  feet  behind  me,  and  was  already  making  his 
preparations  to  transfix  me  with  his  lance.  Worn  out 
with  f-itigue,  and  overcome  by  passion,  I  stopped  short. 
In  my  despair,  I  determined  to  precipitate  myself  upon 
him,  selling  my  life,  at  any  rate,  as  dearly  as  I  could. 
This  I  accordingly  did.  The  Indian,  who  was  aston 
ished  at  this  sudden  movement  upon  my  part,  endea 
vored,  although  fruitlessly,  to  stop  his  headlong  career, 


RECAPTURE.  —  THE   RACE   FOR   LIFE.  99 

and  to  transfix  my  body  with  his  weapon.  This  was 
in  vain,  for  I  swerved  aside  as  the  lance  was  levelled 
at  me ;  and,  in  making  the  effort,  he  stumbled  and  fell. 
In  doing  so,  his  spear  struck  in  the  earth;  and,  with  the 
force  of  his  fall,  its  handle  broke  off  in  his  hand.  As 
quick  as  lightning,  I  tore  the  broken  shaft  of  the  lance 
from  the  earth,  and  pinned  the  Indian  to  the  earth, 
even  as  he  was  struggling  to  rise.  His  dark  eyes  were 
lifted  to  mine  with  a  terrible  stare  of  mingled  rage  and 
agony.  I  could  not,  however,  remain  to  see  him  die, 
but  continued  my  desperate  course. 

"  The  rest  of  my  pursuers  had  been  witnesses  of 
this  brief  struggle,  and  hurried  to  the  assistance  of 
their  companion.  They  had  been  too  far  behind  to 
succor  him,  and,  when  they  came  up  to  his  body,  they 
must  have  found  it  lifeless. 

"Stopping,  they  uttered  wild  cries  and  shouts  of 
rage.  Meanwhile,  profiting  by  the  delay,  I  had  gained 
the  skirts  of  a  thin  cotton-grove,  which  skirted  the 
stream,  and,  at  once,  dashed  myself  into  the  current. 
I  was  now  almost  worn  out  by  the  exertion  I  had  been 
making,  and  was  unable  to  breast  its  strength.  Con 
sequently,  I  was  borne  by  it  towards  a  neighboring 
island,  lower  down  the  stream,  at  the  upper  end  of 
which  a  great  quantity  of  drift-wood  had  collected. 
This  had  formed  an  immense  and  solid  raft,  on  por 
tions  of  which  the  logs,  by  the  action  of  the  river,  bad 


100  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

been  raised,  and  piled  one  upon  the  other.  Beneath 
this  raft,  having,  by  my  immersion,  regained  a  portion 
of  my  strength,  I  plungefl,  and  swam  until  I  was  fortu 
nate  enough  to  find  an  opening  between  some  of  the 
rent  and  floating  trees.  Here  I  could  raise  my  head, 
and  breathe  for  a  moment. 

"The  branches  and  drifted  logs,  which  had  been 
thrown  by  the  action  of  the  water  above  the  surface, 
formed  a  shelter  around  and  partially  over  me,  which 
rose  several  feet  above  the  level  of  the  stream. 

"  All  danger  was  not,  however,  yet  past. 

"  Scarcely  had  I  sufficient  time  to  collect  my  senses, 
when  I  heard  my  enemies  upon  the  bank  of  the  river, 
shrieking  and  yelling  like  a  parcel  of  demons.  Then, 
jumping  into  the  flood,  they  swam  towards  the  upper 
portion  of  the  island,  against  which  the  drift-wood  was 
collected  beneath  which  I  lay  concealed.  When, 
through  the  interstices  of  the  broken  branches,  I  saw 

O 

them  pass  and  repass  in  every  direction,  my  heart 
literally  sank  within  me. 

"  After  more  than  two  hours,  which  seemed  to  me 
an  age  in  length,  from  the  fear  which  oppressed  me, 
they  at  last  gave  up  the  search,  and  gradually  quitted 
the  island ;  or,  at  any  rate,  I  did  not  hear  their  move 
ments  around  and  above  me.  Then  a  horrible  idea 
suggested  itself  to  me.  Supposing  they  were  to  set 
fire  to  the  wood.  It  was  true  that  the  portions  of  it 


RECAPTURE.  —  THE  RACE;  ?0ft  -LIFE. 


which  were  immersed  would  not  Vara,  Eiiougli,  hcW- 
ever,  had  been  long  enough  exposed  to  the  air;  and 
this  would  burn  rapidly.  This  apprehension  haunted 
me  until  nightfall,  when  I  ventured  to  quit  my  hiding- 
place,  and  swam,  or  rather  suffered  myself  to  be  car 
ried,  down  the  current  for  a  considerable  distance. 

"No  sound  of  pursuit  was  hear*?  by  me,  and  I  made 
towards  the  land  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream. 

"  When  I  emerged  from  the  water,  in  spite  of  the 
numbness  and  cold  with  which  I  was  suffering  from  my 
continuous  immersion  for  more  than  six  hours,  as  well 
as  my  bodily  fatigue  and  hunger  (in  twenty-four  hours 
I  had  tasted  nothing),  I  walked  on  through  the  whole 
night,  in  order  that  I  might  put  as  great  a  space  as 
possible  between  myself  and  my  blood-thirsty  ene- 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THK   CANOE.  —  THE   RAPID.  —  THE    DRESS. 

u  THE  imminence  of  the  danger  from  which  I  had 
just  escaped  made  me  forget  that  which  I  ran  in  trav 
elling  unarmed  in  the  midst  of  this  wild  country,  at 
the  risk  of  perishing  from  the  teeth  of  the  wolf,  or  the 
claws  of  the  panther. 

"  Day  at  last  appeared,  and  I  approached  the  river- 
bank  to  drink,  and  refresh  my  strength  by  a  bath.  As 
I  entered  the  water,  I  perceived  a  small  bark-canoe 
drawn  up,  half  out  of  the  water. 

"I  had  soon  loosed  it,  and  saw  with  pleasure  that  it 
was  in  good  condition,  and  that  it  could  serve  for  my 
voyage.  After  pulling  up  some  roots  and  berries,  I 
stepped  into  my  frail  bark,  which  I  guideu  with  a 
green  branch,  which  I  had  torn  from  the  nearest  tree, 
and  stripped  of  its  smaller  twigs  and  leaves. 

"  The  current  was  not  swift,  and  when  night  arrived 

103 


104  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

I  had  not  made  any  great  headway :  so  I  resolved  to 
continue  ray  voyage  all  night;  for  I  wanted,  by  all 
means,  to  leave  a  spot  where  I  had  lost  my  dear  friend, 
and  where  I  had  almost  perished  by  a  cruel  death. 

"  The  river  soon  grew  broader ;  and,  as  I  advanced, 
the  current  became  swifter.  Far  in  the  distance  ahead, 
I  heard  a  noise  similar  to  that  produced  by  a  water 
fall,  and  could  not  well  account  for  it. 

"I  found  it  difficult  to  preserve  my  canoe  in  the 
current,  and  at  each  moment  the  rapidity  became 
greater. 

"The  sharp  rocks  on  either  side  seemed  to  glide 
apart  like  immense  phantoms,  while,  against  the  back 
ground  of  the  broad  sky,  the  trees  which  surmounted 
them  hung  out  their  long  branches  over  the  stream. 

"The  noise  which  was  previously  heard  now  grew 
louder,  and  I  could  at  length  account  for  it.  I  was  on 
a  rapid !  At  some  distance  before  me  was  the  yawn 
ing  gulf  into  which  I  was  about  to  plunge  with  the 
waters  of  the  river. 

"What  was  its  depth  ?  did  the  river  rush  down 
over  rocks,  or  into,a  deep  bed? — such  were  the  ques 
tions  I  asked  myself  in  this  new  peril. 

"I  had  hardly  taken  my  resolution,  when  I  was 
borne  along  with  the  rapidity  of  an  arrow.  I  had 
reached  the  plunge,  and,  as  my  canoe  quivered  upon 
its  very  edge,  I  leaped  into  the  air. 


THE   CANOE.  — THE   RAPID.  10;") 

«  What  passed  during  several  minutes  it  is  impos 
sible  for  me  to  remember;  but,  when  I  was  able  to 
realize  my  position,  I  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  water, 
and  was  carried  along  by  it  with  a  fearful  velocity.  I 
made  an  effort,  striking  out  with  my  arms  and  legs, 
and  soon  felt  the  pure  air  of  the  night  filling  my  lungs. 
I  was  saved,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  had  received 
neither  wound  nor  contusion. 

"  Swimming  to  the  shore,  I  sat  down  on  the  grass  to 
collect  my  strength  and  courage ;  for  so  many  succes 
sive  trials  had  at  length  broken  me  down,  and  de 
stroyed  a  great  portion  of  my  energy  and  self-reliance. 
"When  I  was  somewhat  recovered,  I  climbed  a  tree, 
and,  fastening  myself  to  several  limbs  with  a  vine,  I 
fell  asleep.  It  was  dark  when  I  awoke,  yet  I  was 
ready  to  continue  my  painful  journey. 

«  I  was  far  enough  distant  not  to  be  disturbed  by  the 
fear  of  the  Blackfeet;  but  I  had  another  subject  for 
inquietude.  I  did  not  know  the  direction  which 
would  lead  me  to  the  white  settlements ;  and  I  feared 
constantly  lest  chance  might  throw  me  into  the  power 
of  some  tribe  as  barbarous,  perhaps,  as  that  from  which 
my  escape  had  so  recently  been  made. 

"  I  was  dying  of  hunger ;  and,  although  game  was 
abundant  enough,  I  had  no  means  of  procuring  the 
subsistence  which  I  needed ;  so  I  was  forced  to  teai 


106  THE  PRATRTE-  CRUSOE. 

up  some  roots  with  which  to  sustain  my  weakened 
powers. 

"  During  the  day,  my  body  was  exposed  to  the 
burning  heat  of  the  sun ;  and  at  night  I  was  nearly 
frozen. 

"  Notwithstanding  my  sufferings,  I  put  my  confidence 
in  Heaven,  and  courageously  traversed  immense  prai 
ries,  without  any  shade,  and  filled  with  thorns  and 
bushes  which  tore  my  legs,  and  re-opened  the  wounds 
which  had  been  caused  by  my  late  race  for  life. 

"  For  four  days  I  kept  on,  and,  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  found  myself  near  the  remains  of  a  fire  which  had 
been  lighted  but  a  few  days  before.  The  bones,  and 
strips  of  buffalo-meat,  which  covered  the  ground  led 
me  to  believe  that  hunters  had  been  here.  But,  alas! 
they  were  gone  now. 

"  I  threw  myself  despondingly  on  a  heap  of  dried 
grass,  which  had  probably  served  them  for  a  bed.  In 
spite  of  my  deep  grief,  Nature  was  more  powerful 
than  my  severe  sufferings,  and  I  fell  into  a  deep  slum 
ber. 

"The  bright  rays  of  the  morning  sun  awoke  me, 
and  at  first  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  recall  my  ideas ; 
but  the  bitter  truth  soon  revealed  itself.  I  was  naked, 
wounded,  alone,  abandoned  in  an  unknown  land,  and, 
wherever  I  turned,  could  sne  only  an  immense  solitude, 


THE  CANOE.  —  THE  RAPID.         107 

beyond  which,  doubtless,  lived  people  more  cruel  than 
wild  beasts. 

"  Under  the  weight  of  these  sad  reflections,  I  was 
drooping  my  head,  when  my  eyes  were  suddenly  struck 
by  something  bright,  which  lay  glittering  in  the  long 
grass,  at  no  great  distance. 

"Approaching  to  look,  —  oh,  unexpected  happiness! 
—  I  saw  a  knife !  Those  who  have  passed  their  lives  in 
the  vicinity  of  cities,  may  not,  perhaps,  comprehend 
my  joy  at  this  discovery ;  but  he  who  has  passed  part 
of  his  existence  in  the  vast  solitudes  of  America  will 
understand  it  easily ;  for  he  may  remember,  that,  in  the 
course  of  his  backwoods  life,  the  possession  of  a  knife 
is  not  a  mere  comfort,  but  a  primary  necessity. 

"Animated  with  fresh  hope,  I  examined  the  spot 
where  I  was  attentively.  Not  far  off  I  found  the  re 
mains  of  a  bison,  and  hastened  to  cut  off  a  piece  for 
my  breakfast ;  but  the  meat  had  been  spoiled  by  the 
excessive  heat  of  the  sun  of  the  previous  day;  and,  in 
spite  of  my  great  hunger,  I  could  not  eat  a  mouthful. 
I  was  therefore  obliged  to  content  myself  with  some 
roots,  which  seemed  succulent  to  me,  although  they 
were  very  insipid. 

"  On  reflection,  I  bethought  me,  that,  if  the  flesh 
could  be  of  no  use,  still  the  skin  might  furnish  mate 
rial  for  a  covering;  so  I  went  to  work  at  once.  This 
was  not  difficult  for  me,  as  I  had  often  helped 


108  THE  PRAIRTE  CRUSOE. 

Lewis  prepare  his  furs,  and  had  acquired  considerable 
skill. 

"  The  flesh,  which  had  commenced  to  putrefy,  was 
easily  detached  from  the  skin,  and  using  my  knife,  and 
some  large  flat  stones  which  I  found  in  the  bed  of  a 
neighboring  brook,  I  had  soon  cleaned  the  skin  as 
much  as  possible.  I  had  to  rest  from  time  to  time ;  for 
I  was  feeble :  and  I  found  considerable  difficulty  in 
dragging  the  skin  as  far  as  the  water's  edge,  where  I 
washed  it  free  from  all.  remains  of  flesh.  I  then  cut, 
some  reeds,  with  which  I  pinned  it  to  the  earth  to  dry 
in  the  sun  without  shrinking. 

"  Night  surprised  me  in  the  midst  of  my  work,  and 
obliged  me  to  leave  it  unfinished  until  the  morrow. 

"In  the  tree  among  the  branches  of  which  I  had  de 
termined  to  pass  the  night,  I  saw  some  birds'  nests, 
and,  climbing  up  with  some  difficulty  to  the  place 
where  they  were,  I  found  about  a  dozen  freshly  laid 
eggs,  which  made  me  a  most  delicious  meal.  I  de 
scended  to  drink  at  the  stream,  and,  on  re-ascending, 
carried  a  good  bundle  of  dry  grass,  which  I  spread, 
over  two  of  the  limbs  of  the  tree,  as  a  bod,  on  which  I 
slept  soundly,  after  recommending  myself  to  Him  who 
had  watched  over  me  so  carefully. 

"The  next  morning  I  awoke  stiff  with  cold,  and  had 
to  give  myself  a  good  rubbing  before  my  joints  became 
supple  enough  to  allow  me  to  descend.  I  bathed  ir 


THE  CANOE.  —  THE  RAPID.          109 

the  sti  oam ;  and  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  partially 
restored  my  exhausted  vigor. 

"  I  set  to  work  with  determination.  The  skin  was  a 
little  damp  yet  with  dew ;  but  the  sun  and  the  wind 
soon  dried  it  without  rendering  it  less  pliaLt. 

"  First,  I  busied  myself  with  making  a  pair  of  moc- 
casons  to  replace  my  old  ones,  which  were  about  worn 
out,  leavii  g  my  feet  very  much  exposed;  and,  after  a 
few  trials,  I  finished  by  producing  a  pair  capable  of 
protecting' me  during  a  tolerably  long  journey. 

"  Out  of  the  rest  of  the  skin,  I  cut  a  kind  of  blouse, 
having  three  openings,  —  one  for  my  head,  and  two  for 
my  arms. 

"  To  sew  the  pieces  together  was  the  difficulty ;  and 
it  must  be  owned,  that  it  was  a  long  time  before  I 
could  supply  the  want  of  all  that  I  needed.  At  last 
I  found,  on  a  rocky  patch  of  ground,  near  a  ravine,  some 
agave,  a  plant  resembling  the  aloes,  whose  leaves  are 
covered  with  thorns.  I  drew  out  the  long  fibres  from 
the  stem,  and  used  them  as  thread,  while,  for  needles, 
I  had  the  long  and  sharp  thorns  of  the  acacia  triacan- 
thoS)  which  grew  near  by  in  large  quantities.  I  per 
forated  the  large  end  with  my  knife,  and  now  nothing 
was  wanting  but  patience ;  consequently,  I  very  soon 
had  my  garment  finished.  Not  even  the  cap,  which  I 
made  out  of  the  skin  of  the  bison's  skull,  was  forgot 
ten  ;  and  I  fastened  it  with  two  of  the  stoutest  fibres. 


110 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


"  Thus  equipped,  I  presented  the  most  grotesque  ap- 
pearance  imaginable :  and,  looking  at  myself  in  one  of 
the  deeper  portions  of  the  stream,  I  could  not  help 
laughing  outright ;  for  my  light-heartedness  and  hopes 
had  returned  as  soon  as  I  had  recourse  to  those  two 
powerful  auxiliaries  of  man,  —  labor  and  prayer'- 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   VALLEY.  —  THE  BEAVERS. 

"I  DETEBMINED  to  try  and  make  a  bow  and  a/rows; 
for  everywhere  about  me  game  abounded,  and  birds 
liew  in  countless  numbers,  without  my  being  able  to 
procure  any  nourishment  but  roots  and  flavorless 
fruits.  After  many  efforts,  I  succeeded  in  making  a 
bow  out  of  a  stout  reed  branch,  cut  from  a  young  ash. 
The  cord  was  soon  found  among  the  tendons  of  the 
bison,  and  arrows  in  plenty  among  the  reeds,  which  I 
pointed  with  acacia-thorns,  fastened  on  with  fibres. 
To  guide  them  straight,  I  attached  to  the  other  end, 
feathers  from  birds,  which  drop  them  continually,  as 
they  pass  and  repass  from  branch  to  branch. 

"My  satisfaction  was  great  on  finding  myself  in 
possession  of  a  weapon  which  would  not  only  allow 
me  to  provide  for  my  subsistence,  but  which  might 
serve  to  defend  me,  in  case  I  met  with  hostile  In- 
ill 


112  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

dians  again,  which  I  was,  as  I  must  confess,  by  no 
means  desirous  of  doing. 

"  To  practise  with  my  new  arm  was  the  first  thing, 
nor  did  I  prove  very  unskilful.  The  second  arrow 
which  I  shot  from  my  bow  pierced  a  water-fowl,  as  it 
rose  from  the  stream. 

"  After  securing  it,  by  a  short  swim,  to  pluck  it  and 
clean  it  was  a  quickly  finished  job ;  and,  for  the  first 
time  since  my  separation  from  poor  Lewis,  I  ventured 
to  make  a  fire  to  roast  my  game. 

"  Although  the  nights  were  sensibly  cold,  I  had  nat 
urally  hesitated  to  light  a  fire,  because  the  smoke  and 
flame  would  be  visible  from  a  distance.  However,  I 
now  felt  less  fear,  or  partially  re-assured  by  the  space 
which  I  had  placed  between  my  enemies  and  myself; 
consequently,  I  dared  the  risk. 

"I  soon  found  a  flint  almost  as  clear  as  agate,  and, 
with  my  knife  and  a  heap  of  dry  leaves,  I  soon  had  a 
clear  flame,  which  I  kept  burning  with  constant  addi 
tions  of  dry  underbrush.  Hanging  the  fowl,  by  some 
fibres  of  the  agave,  to  the  branch  of  a  tree,  I  soon  saw 
my  coming  dinner  nicely  browning,  as  it  turned  in  the 
wind  before  my  improvised  kitchen-hearth. 

"  The  repast  was  delicious,  and,  after  some  hours  of 
repose,  I  felt  quite  disposed  to  push  on.  I  was  too 
near  the  river ;  and  I  hoped,  by  keeping  a  little  to  the 


THE  VALLEY. — THE  BFAVERS.       113 

north,  to  meet  some  trappers,  who  would  give  me 
directions  how  to  reach  St.  Louis. 

"Therefore  I  prepared  for  my  journey. 

"  My  equipment  was  a  little  singular ;  and  I  thought 
of  the  astonishment  of  the  baron  and  Stanislas,  and 
the  gay  laugh  of  the  charming  little  Bertha,  if  they 
could  only  see  me  in  such  a  rig. 

"Besides  my  moccasons,  and  my  bison-skin  blouse, 
which  looked  about  as  graceful  as  a  blacksmith's 
apron,  I  had  fashioned  out  a  kind  of  mantle,  which 
came  down  to  my  knees,  and  which  might  serve,  as 
occasion  required,  either  as  a  quilt  or  as  a  garment. 

"  On  my  back  I  slung  an  extra  pair  of  moccasons, 
which  I  had  made,  and  a  quiver,  formed  of  two  pieces 
of  bark  tied  together,  which  held  my  arrows.  My 
knife  was  fastened  at  my  waist.  In  my  right  hand  I 
carried  a  stout  stick,  writh  a  large  knot  on  the  end, 
which  would  prove  a  very  fair  weapon  for  defense. 
Over  my  left  shoulder  I  had  passed  my  bow. 

"Thus  equipped,  I  set  out  gayly,  and  continued  to 
advance  for  five  days,  without  meeting  any  adventure 
worth  repeating. 

"Towards  evening,  on  the  fifth  day,  I  reached  a  deli 
cious  valley.  It  was  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  clear 
and  limpid  stream  of  water,  bordered  with  beautiful 
flowers,  and  emptying  itself  into  a  deep  ravine,  which 
bounded  the  valley  on  one  side.  Towards  the  north, 


114  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

it  was  completely  shut  in  by  a  dense  forest,  which  the 
underbrush  and  vines  rendered  absolutely  impassable. 

"  The  only  passage  was  that  by  which  I  entered.  It 
was  only  a  few  yards  wide,  and  was  flanked  on  either 
side  by  sharp  rocks,  covered  with  a  dense  growth  of 
euphorbia  and  agaves,  impenetrable  even  to  wild 
beasts. 

"Now  that  the  dangers  which  I  had  run  were  far 
distant,  I  became  thoughtless  of  what  new  perils  might 
await  me,  and  acquired  a  new  taste  for  this  life,  so  full 
of  adventure  and  unforeseen  events. 

"Before  the  works  of  God  in  powerful  and  varied 
nature,  man  feels  two  successive  sentiments,  diametri 
cally  opposed,  but  both  equally  proceeding  from  the 
grandeur  and  perfections  of  the  Creator  of  all  things. 

"  Man  is  forced  to  bow,  and  acknowledge  his  little 
ness,  when  he  considers  the  prodigies  of  creation  about 
him ;  but  he  raises  his  head  with  honest  pride,  remem 
bering,  that,  of  all  created  beings  on  earth,  he  is  the 
most  intelligent,  the  most  gifted,  and  the  one  whose 
perfectible  nature  must  overcome  and  rule  eveiy  other 
being  whose  instincts  and  feelings  are  in  every  man 
ner  inferior  and  more  restrained. 

"  Thus  I,  a  child  almost,  alone,  abandoned,  without 
friends  or  resources,  in  the  midst  of  immense  wastes, 
had  been  able,  armed  only  with  that  confidence  in 
God  which  is  but  a  knowledge  and  a  conviction  of  his 


THE  VALLEY. — THE  BEAVERS.        115 

greatness  and  almighty  power,  —  I  had  been  able,  I 
say,  to  protect  my  life,  and  continue,  with  some  feel 
ing  of  security,  the  long  and  painful  journey  which  I 
had  yet  to  accomplish. 

"On  entering  this  charming  valley,  of  which  I  have 
bpoken,  and  which  seemed  thrown  in  my  way  as  if  to 
invite  a  long  sojourn,  I  thanked  God  for  all  his  pre 
vious  mercies,  and  established  my  cam])  near  the 
stream,  at  the  foot  of  an  enormous  tree,  which  ex 
tended  afar  its  protecting  shade. 

"  On  reflection,  I  determined  to  remain  here  some 
time,  and  to  explore  the  neighborhood,  both  to  satisfy 
my  taste  for  natural  history,  and  to  discover  the  traces 
of  any  trappers. 

"The  following  morning,  after  a  substantial  break 
fast,  composed  of  a  gray  squirrel  and  a  species  of 
plover,  some  potatoes  roasted  in  the  ashes,  and  a  drink 
of  the  fresh  running  brook,  I  started  out  of  the  little 
valley.  I  soon  met  with  the  stream  again,  and  fol 
lowed  it  up  during  nearly  an  hour. 

"Arriving  at  a  place  where  the  river  was  wider,  to 
my  astonishment,  I  found  a  sort  of  coifer-dam,  com 
posed  of  trunks  of  trees,  and  branches  interwoven  and 
filled  in  with  earth,  which  held  the  water  in  check.  A 
Bound  which  I  heard  in  the  water  made  me  quite 
apprehensive,  and  I  hid  in  the  bushes. 

"A  few  minutes  after,  I  saw  two  or  three  black 


116  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

bodies  appear  on  the  surface,  remain  still,  .and  then 
come  out  of  the  w  iter,  and  climb  up  the  dam.  I  had 
read  of  and  seen  engravings  of  them.  -They  were 
beavers. 

"  The  wind  blew  towards  me ;  so  I  approached,  still 
concealed  behind  the  thick  curtain  of  leaves,  to  ob 
serve  these  interesting  animals. 

"  A  dozen  beavers  were  upon  the  dam,  very  busy, 
apparently ;  and  I  soon  saw  what  they  were  about. 
One  side  of  the  dam  had  been  thrown  down,  probably 
by  some  overturned  trunk  floating  down  the  stream, 
and  the  whole  colony  were  about  to  repair  the  dam 
age. 

"One  of  them  gnawed  the  base  of  a  young  tree, 
which  stood  near  by,  to  make  it  fall  into  the  river; 
which  soon  happened. 

"Immediately,  each  one  set  to  work  cutting  off  the 
useless  branches,  or  those  which  would  be  in  the  way, 
and  depositing  them  carefuHy  where  they  were  wanted 
in  the  repairs. 

"  When  the  trunk  was  placed  in  position,  by  their 
joint  efforts,  across  the  hole  made  by  the  accident,  the 
beavers  went  in  quest  of  rich  earth,  which  they  made 
into  little  balls  with  their  front  paws,  —  which  really 
seemed  to  resemble  human  hands,  —  and  bringing 
them,  vsupported  by  these  and  their  nose,  they  bound 
together  the  branches  which  were  filled  in  with  this 


THE  VALLEY.  —  THE  BEAVERS.       117 

mortar,  using  their  back  feet,  wliich  are  webbed  like 
those  of  aquatic  birds,  for  this  purpose ;  and,  before  a 
great  while,  the  damage  was  all  repaired,  and  the  water 
had  found  its  old  level. 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  pool  formed  by  the  dam,  were 
their  habitations.  They  were  built  in  the  shape  of  an 
oven,  rounded  off  on  the  top,  and  built  upon  piles. 

"  I  have  since  had  occasion  to  see  them  quite  near, 
and  to  examine  them  in  detail. 

"There  are  two  entrances,  —  one  above,  the  other 
beneath  the  water.  The  interior  is  divided  into  two 
or  three  stories,  communicating  with  each  other,  and 
serving  as  dwelling  and  storehouse.  In  the  upper  part, 
the  female  rears  her  little  ones  on  a  soft  and  warm 
bed,  made  of  moss  and  dried  leaves. 

"The  beaver  eats  only  vegetable  substances,  such  as 
dried  fruits,  the  bark  of  trees,  and  roots. 

"I  once  saw  a  beaver  village  abandoned,  because  of 
the  drying-tip  of  the  water-course  where  it  was  built ; 
and  I  admired  greatly  the  ability  and  intelligence  which 
had  presided  at  its  construction.  The  piles  which  sup 
ported  their  cabins  were  more  than  nine  feet  long,  and 
were  firmly  buried  in  the  earth.  They  wore  bound 
together  by  interwoven  branches  and  posts,  cemented 
with  mortar  composed  of  sand,  loam,  and  small  peb 
bles.  Some  of  the  trunks  of  the  trees  of  which  the  dam 
was  composed  were  as  large  round  as  the  body  of  a 


118 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


man,  while  others  were  perfectly  square.  The  whole 
dam,  which  was  perpendicular  where  it  faced  clown 
stream,  was  sloping  against  its  course,  so  as  to  offer  a 
firm  resistance  to  the  pressure  of  the  water,  —  a  pres 
sure  which  grew  less  and  less  on  approaching  the  sur 
face,  just  in  proportion  as  the  dam  diminished. 

"  The  upper  slope  was  increased  also  by  the  gradual 
deposit  of  sand  and  mud  from  the  river  washings. 

"  But  I  examined  that  village  some  time  afterwards. 
Now,  after  satisfying  my  curiosity,  and  passing  several 
hours  in  observation,  I  continued  my  excursion,  and 
returned  to  my  camping-ground,  well  satisfied  with 
what  I  had  seen." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   BUFFALOES.  —  THE   ARICARA. 

"AFTER  having  recruited  my  strength,  I  recom 
menced  my  journey  northward,  feeling  well  able  to 
endure  the  fatigue  and  difficulties  I  might  experience. 
I  had  so  accustomed  myself  to  the  use  of  the  bow, 
and  employed  it  now  so  skilfully,  that  I  did  not  fear 
to  meet  an  Indian,  or  any  other  enemy.  So  I  went  on 
my  way  full  of  confidence. 

"I  followed  the  course  of  a  large  stream,  which  I  had 
discovered  in  the  neighborhood,  both  because  it  was  in 
the  direction  which  I  intended  to  pursue,  and  because 
of  the  rare  beauties  of  the  tract  of  land  through  whiuL 
it  do  wed. 

"The  prairies  along  the  banks  were  adorned  with 
innumerable  flowers,  displaying  as  many  varieties  of 
brilliant  color  as  of  graceful  form.  The  charming 
isles,  which  appeared  to  float  upon  the  surface  of  the 

119 


120  THE  PRAIRTfi   CRUSOE. 

stream,  and  where  I  several  times  sought  rest,  were 
like  beautiful  gardens.  The  trees  were  frequently 
overrun  with  parasites,  and  vines  in  blossom,  which 
filled  the  air  with  delicious  perfume. 

"  Amid  this  immense  growth  of  verdure  were  occa 
sional  prairies  and  clearings,  covered  with  rank  grass, 
and  serving  as  a  retreat  for  the  buffalo,  the  moose, 
and  the  antelope,  which  had  traced  innumerable  patha 
among  the  trees  and  bushes,  forming  a  very  labyrinth 
in  complication  and  variety. 

"  In  some  spots,  vegetation  seemed  to  have  ceased, 
and  the  soil  remained  barren  and  arid.  This  effect  is 
produced  by  the  exposure  of  large  veins  of  oxide  of 
iron,  from  the  action  of  water. 

"  At  a  bend  in  the  river,  a  large,  rocky  hill,  formed 
almost  entirely  of  this  mineral,  had  long  offered  an 
obstacle  to  the  passage  of  the  waters;  but,  overcome 
by  the  incessant  rush  of  the  stream,  it  had  finally  been 
pierced,  and  now  the  waters  rushed  through  an  im 
mense  arch,  whose  sides  are  being  weakened  day  by 
day,  until,  with  lapse  of  years,  t.he  whole  will  be 
wasted  away,  and  fall  into  the  wave  beneath. 

"After  passing  thip  point,  the  land  rose  gradually  on 
either  bank,  still  showing  rich  deposits  of  mineral 
matter,  whose  presence  indicated  to  my  mind,  as  I 
recollected  the  descriptions  given  by  Lewis,  that  I  wns 
on  a  branch  of  the  Missouri.  Consequently,  feeling 


THE   BUFFALOES. — THE    ARICARA.  121 

that  I  was  in  the  right  way  to  reach  the  tei  ninus  of 
my  journey,  I  continued  to  follow  the  shore,  examining 
with  curiosity  the  many  wonders  of  this  remarkably 
rich  country. 

"  I  thought  of  this  well-nigh  exhaustless  store  of  i 
metal  most  useful  to  civilized  man,  thus  placed  by  Na 
ture  in  a  rich  and  fertile  country,  amid  immense  beds 
of  the  coal  formation,  which  compose  the  valleys  bor 
dering  on  the  Missouri. 

O 

"Is  not  this  a  certain  sign  of  the  future  wealth  of 
these  immense  regions  in  the  West,  which  need  only 
the  labor  and  the  intelligence  of  man,  to  be  drawn 
from  their  wild  state,  now  rich  in  poetry  and  natural 
beauties,  but  poor  in  all  products  useful  to  humanity, 
and,  with  their  fertile  wealth,  and  countless  resources, 
totally  unprofitable  to  civilization. 

"  I  frequently  stopped  to  examine,  collecting  many 
specimens  of  grains  and  minerals  that  I  wished  to 
preserve,  which  I  placed  in  a  little  bark  box,  which  I 
had  made,  and  which  was  attached  to  my  waist. 

"  In  addition  to  these  mineral  deposits,  the  land  is 
wholly  composed  of  prairies,  intersected  by  ravines, 
and  gently  rolling  hills.  During  the  rainy  season,  all 
the  fissures  and  indentations  of  the  eoil  become  the 
beds  of  rapid  torrents,  swollen  by  the  waters  from  the 
regions  beyond ;  but  in  mid-summer  these  are  all  dried 
up. 


THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

"  On  the  slopes  of  the  hills,  and  in  these  ruvines,  is 
found  a  plentiful  growth  of  brush;  but  the  rest  of 
the  country,  as  one  approaches  the  high  mountains 
which  bound  the  horizon,  is  covered  with  tall,  thick 
grass.  NOY  does  it  contain  a  solitary  tree,  beneath 
which  the  traveller  may  find  shelter  from  the  burning 
rays  of  the  sun. 

"  The  ground  of  this  higher  region  is  strongly  im 
pregnated  with  sulphur,  sulphate  of  iron,  alum,  and  sul 
phate  of  soda.  These  various  substances  color  the 
neighboring  streams,  and,  aided  by  the  frequent  over 
flowings  which  occur  in  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi, 
give  the  waters  of  this  river  their  taste  as  well  as 
color. 

"  While  following  the  river-bank,  I  heard  some  dis 
tance  before  me,  in  a  plain  from  which  I  was  separated 
by  a  thick  grove  of  trees,  a  frightful  noise,  which 
coined  to  approach  rapidly.  The  very  earth  seemed 
to  be  tremulous  with  a  violent  and  precipitate  motion. 

"I  had  just  time  to  seek  shelter  behind  a  huge 
bowlder,  and  examine  my  weapons,  when,  bursting 
and  crashing  through  the  bushes  and  trees,  overturn- 
ing  and  trampling  all  that  opposed  them,  came  a  troop 
of  nearly  two  hundred  buffaloes. 

"They  passed  like  a  hurricane  towards  the  river, 
Crushing  the  long  grass  beneath  their  rapid  course 


THE   BUFFALOES.  —  THE   ARTCARA.  1^ 

spurning  the  stones  with  their  mighty  hoofs,  arid  mak 
ing  the  most  frightful  bellowings. 

"  The  whole  troop  dashed  recklessly  into  the  rapid 
stream,  displacing  its  waters  with  their  impetuous  rush, 
and  throwing  them  violently  back  upon  the  bank 
They  then  climbed  the  opposite  bank,  and,  pursuing 
their  headlong  course,  were  in  a  short  time  lost  to  my 
sight. 

"Certainly,  nothing  but  a  powerful  enemy  could 
have  caused  such  a  panic.  As  I  was  anxiously  wait 
ing  for  the  enemy  to  appear,  I  fancied  that  I  heard 
the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  in  a  short  exclamation, 
from  beyond  the  trees  through  which  the  rush  of  the 
buffaloes  had  just  passed.  It  had  scarcely  caught  my 
ear,  as  it  was  mingled  with  the  furious  bellowing  of  a 
brute.  Leaving  my  momentary  shelter,  I  quickly  hur 
ried  forward,  although  with  as  much  caution  as  my 
impatience  would  permit,  through  the  dense  grove 
which  obstructed  my  view.  On  the  other  side  of  it,  I 
beheld  a  scene  which  at  once  explained  itself. 

"Scarcely  a  hundred  feet  from  me,  a  large  buffalo-cow 
was  shielding  with  her  body  a  young  calf,  whose  feet 
had  been  caught  by  a  lasso,  and  which  was  no\v  lying 
upon  the  ground,  completely  motionless.  After  a  brief 
pause,  with  a  savage  bellow,  as  if  possessed  with  a  mad 
fury,  she  rushed  upon  an  Indian,  armed  with  a  lance, 
who  was  intent  upon  his  anticipated  prey.  Otherwise, 


124  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

BO  acute  is  the  Indian  sense  of  hearing,  that  I  feel  cou- 
vincecl  he  would  have  heard  my  approach. 

"  Unfortunately  he  made  a  false  step,  and,  before  he 
could  recover  himself,  the  infuriated  animal  was  upon 
him.  Raising  him  upon  her  horns,  as  I  might  hava 
picked  up  a  dead  sparrow,  she  tossed  him  forward  into 
the  air,  through  which  he  described  an  arc  of  about 
fifteen  or  perhaps  twenty  feet.  Then,  rushing  in  her 
blind  rage  upon  the  prostrate  foe,  her  head  was  again 
bent  to  the  ground,  and,  with  her  threatening  horns, 
she  needed  scarcely  an  instant  more  to  accomplish  her 
revenge  by  trampling  him  beneath  her  feet. 

"Let  me  own  honestly,  that  when  I  first  saw  him 
fall,  and  the  buffalo  rush  upon  him,  a  cruel  delight  for 
a  moment  took  possession  of  -me. 

"  I  had  not  yet  forgotten  my  race  for  dear  life  from 
the  Blackfeet,  and  this  feeling  was  not  altogether  un 
natural. 

"Then,  however,  I  recalled  the  fact  that  I  really 
owed  my  life  to  the  Jaguar;  "and  when  I  saw  him 
raised  like  a  feather  on  the  horns  of  the  brute,  nnd  in 
a  moment  aftor  whirling  through  the  air,  a  more  Chris- 
ti:in  feeling  filled  my  heart.  I  knew  not  to  wlint  tribe 
he  might  belong.  lie  might  not  be  one  of  the  Black- 
feet.  Nay,  if  he  wore,  he  was  none  the  less  my  brother. 
Moreover,  I  had  been  alone  for  several  days;  and,  in 
my  state  of  perfect  isolation,  I  confess  I  had  repeatedly 


THE   BUFFALOES. — THE   ARICARA.  125 

wished  again  to  hear  the  voice  of  a  fellow-being.  Con 
sequently,  I  rushed  as  quickly  forward  as  I  could,  and 
unsheathed  my  knife  as  I  did  so. 

"The  unfortunate  hunter  was  lying  on  the  ground, 
an  inert  and  perhaps  lifeless  mass  at  the  feet  of  his 
formidable  and  maddened  foe. 

"Just  in  time  to  prevent  the  second  deadly  attack, 
I  uttered  a  loud  yell  behind  the  infuriated  animal, 
which  caused  her  to  stop  for  a  moment  in  temporary 
indecision.  Short  as  was  this  moment,  it  was  enough 
to  save  the  Indian.  Springing  forward,  with  a  sudden 
and  dexterous  blow  with  my  knife  I  succeeded  in  ham 
stringing  her.  The  buffalo,  bellowing  fiercely  with 
pain  and  anger,  reeled  and  fell  over.  Then  she  again 
tried  to  rise,  tossing  her  huge  head  wildly  in  the  fu 
rious  effort;  but  she  again  fell  prone  upon  the  earth. 

"Profiting  by  this  moment  to  end  her  sufferings,  as 
the  buffalo  lay  motionless  before  me,  I  dealt  her  a 
sharp  blow  between  the  base  of  the  skull  and  its  junc 
tion  with  the  spine.  It  was  given  vigorously  and 
effectively.  Making  one  last  effort  to  rise,  she  rolled 
over  upon  the  ground,  and,  save  a  quiver  or  two 
through  her  huge  form,  stirred  no  more. 

"  This  took  less  time  to  accomplish  than  it  now  does 
to  relate.  Turning  at  once  to  the  Indian,  who  seemed 
to  be  in  a  pitiable  state,  I  saw  that  he  had  fainted 
away  from  loss  of  blood.  A  large,  but  fortunately  not 


l~*i  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

a  deep  wound,  wruch  had  entered  no  vital  part,  as  J 
discovered  by  examination,  was  on  his  right  side.  It 
had  been  given  by  the  horn  of  the  buffalo.  As  I  saw 
the  abundant  flow  of  blood,  it  became  evident  to  me 
that  it  was  at  once  necessary  to  stop  it. 

"While  with  my  good  Lewis,  I  had  frequently  had 
occasion  to  see  him  make  use  of  plants  to  stop  bleed 
ing  from  light  and  casual  wounds,  and  had  gradually 
become  a  tolerably  fair  adept  in  the  rough  surgery  of 
the  prairie  1  had  n^ver,  however,  attended  to  so 
deep  a  wound  as  this.  Nevertheless,  I  looked  about 
me,  and  discovered,  after  a  brief  search,  a  sufficiency 
of  marjoram-leaven  tor  rny  present  purpose.  Chewing 
these  until  they  were  reduced  to  a  pulpy  mass,  I  con 
verted  them  into  a  specie*  of  poultice.  This  I  placed 

upon  the  wound,  and  soou  had  the  pleasure  of  seein^ 

o 

that  the  flow  ol  blood  had  gradually  ceased. 

"I  then  hastened  to  tetcL  some  water  from  the 
river,  in  a  little  ^our<t  which  I  had  fashioned  from  a 
calabash. 

"The  fresh  water,  which  1  sprinkled  freely  over  hip 
brow  and  face,  revived  the  wounded  Indian.  With  a 
faint  and  almost  inarticulate  murmur  upon  his  lips,  he 
opened  his  eyes. 

"As  soon  as  he  perceived  me.  Ins  tirst  movement 
was  with  his  hand,  as  if  searching  for  his  tomahawk 
for  the  purpose  of  defence ;  but  the  effort  was  beyond 


THE   BUFFALOES.    —THE   ARICARA.  127 

• 

his  strength,  and,  as  a  necessary  result  of  the  exertion, 
lie  sank  back  once  more  perfectly  unconscious. 

"  Thanks  to  my  care,  and  the  mercy  of  Providence, 
he  soon  recovered.  When  he  did  so,  he  looked  upon 
me  more  calmly  and  even  amiably.  I  pressed  upon 
his  lips  the  juice  of  some  wild  fruit  which  I  had  gath 
ered  ;  and,  after  a  brief  space  of  time,  a  slight  tinge  of 
color  appeared  upon  his  lips,  and  he  was  enabled  to  sit 
up,  with  his  back  supported  against  a  tree.  He  would 
have  spoken  to  me ;  but  I  put  my  finger  to  my  lip, 
and,  with  a  meaning  gesture,  signified  to  him  that  he 
must  remain  silent.  His  dark  eye  expressed  astonish 
ment;  but,  recovering  the  impassibility  which  distin 
guish  his  race,  he  closed  his  eyes,  and,  overcome  by 
fatigue  and  loss  of  blood,  sank  upon  the  ground,  and 
slept  quietly. 

"Taking  the  opportunity  which  his  slumber  gave 
me,  I  freed  the  buffalo-calf,  whose  cries  were  so  pitia 
ble  as  to  be  annoying.  Entangled  in  the  cords  of  the 
lasso,  from  which  it  found  it  impossible  to  release  it 
self,  it  would,  unless  it  had  been  released,  have  died 
very  speedily  of  hunger,  or  have  been  devoured  by 
the  vultures  and  prairie-wolves,  of  which  there  is  never 
any  scarcity  upon  these  broad  plains.  Young  as  it 
was,  it  was  strong  enough,  and  had  sufficient  instinct, 
to  regain  its  troop.  In  fact,  as  soon  as  it  was  released. 


128 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


I  watched  it  disappear  in  the  direction  that  the  herd 
to  which  it  belonged  had  previously  taken. 

"After  having  killed  several  birds,  and  plucked 
them,  I  cut  off  a  slice  of  meat  from  the  dead  buffalo, 
and,  while  my  new  comrade  slept,  prepared  our  meal, 
still  watching  the  fine  and  noble  features  of  the 
wounded  man  attentively. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ARRIVAL  IN   THE    TRIBE.  —  ADOPTION. 

"  HE  was  evidently  a  strong  and  vigorous  man,  per 
haps  a  little  over  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  express 
ing  in  his  countenance  both  courage  and  frankness. 
His  dress,  torn,  and  stained  with  blood,  was  richly 
decorated  with  feathers  and  pearls.  The  teeth  and 
claws  of  a  grisly  bear,  of  which  his  necklace  was 
formed,  indicated  a  skilful  hunter.  The  tails  of 
wolves,  which  adorned  his  head-dress  and  fell  below 
his  shoulders,  as  well  as  the  ornaments  on  his  right 
arm,  marked  the  intrepid  warrior;  while  the  eagle- 
plumes  that  waved  proudly  over  his  forehead  revealed 
his  dignity  as  a  chief. 

"He  was  not  a  Blackfoot,  —  I  had  studied  them  to 
closely  to  be  mistaken;  not  a  Sioux,  —  the  form  of 
his  moccason  showed  this ;  nor  a  Pawnee,  for  the  tor 
toise  painted  on  his  chest  was  not  a  mark  of  this  tribe; 

9  129 


130  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

and  I  was  lost  in  conjectures,  which.  I  was  framing  ill 
my  own  mind  concerning  him,  when  he  awoke. 

"  Dinner  was  ready,  and  our  hunger  was  too  real  for 
us  to  delay  our  attention  to  the  meal.  He  ate  and 
drank  in  silence,  and  I  remarked  that  he  seemed  to 
have  partially  recovered  his  strength ;  yet  ho  was 
still  unable  to  stand.  His  weakness  was  too  great; 
and  it  was  evident  that  he  would  have  to  remain 
where  he  was  for  some  short  time  longer. 

"  In  a  few  words,  and  without  alluding  to  my  affair 
with  the  Blackfeet  (for  I  knew  not  with  whom  I  had 
to  do),  I  told  him  how  I  had  arrived  just  in  time  to 
save  him  from  being  torn  to  pieces,  or  trampled  to 
death  by  the  buftalo. 

"  In  doing  this,  I  made  use  of  a  dialect  which  was 
pretty  common  on  the  prairies,  and  which  is  made  up 
of  English,  French,  and  words  taken  from  the  lan 
guages  of  the  different  tribes.  This  dialect  is  espe 
cially  used  by  trappers  when  on  their  long  excursions, 
and  I  had  easily  learned  to  speak  it  when  in  company 
with  Lewis. 

"He  understood  me  very  well,  and  listened  attentively 
to  all  that  I  said.  Then  he  took  my  right  hand  in  his, 
and,  putting  his  other  palm  on  my  forehead,  said  these 
few  words,  — 

"'It  is  well.  My  pale  brother  is  good.  He  will  be 
my  friend.' 


ARRIVAL   IN  THE   TRIBE.  15 1 

tt  Then,  with  a  gesture  full  of  grace  and  dignity,  ho 
stretched  himself  upon  the  ground,  and  fell  asleep. 

"I  quickly  imitated  him,  yielding  to  sleep  without 
any  distrust,  by  the  side  of  this  savage,  whom  gratitude 
had  made  my  friend,  and  who,  feeble  and  unarmed, 
had  trusted  so  completely  in  a  stranger,  whose  senti 
ments  of  honor,  as  between  man  and  man,  he  judged 
must  be  similar  to  those  which  he  himself  felt. 

"At  daybreak,  I  was  awakened  by  the  Indian,  whose 
wound  was  now  quickly  healing,  and  who  had  collected 
strength  by  his  long  rest  sufficient  for  him  to  again 
return  to  his  village. 

"  Taking  me  by  the  hand,  he  said,  that,  .after  the 
service  which  I  had  rendered  him,  I  had  become  his 
brother,  and  that  he  would  not,  nor  could  he,  leave  me 
alone  in  the  desert,  with  the  miserable  weapons  which 
I  had,  exposed  to  those  dangers  which  I  was  liable 
to  meet  with  at  every  step.  He  therefore  engaged 
me  to  follow  him  to  his  tribe,  where  I  should  be  joyful 
ly  received. 

"  I  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  this  offer ;  for  I  felt  very 
lonely  in  my  present  solitude,  where  I  had  been  so 
happy  when  Lewis  was  with  me.  Moreover,  this  offer 
upon  his  part  would  give  me  a  chance  to  see  and 
study  closely  the  manner  and  life  of  the  red  men 
amongst  themselves. 

"It  was  possible,  also,  that  his  tribe  was  in  the  habit 


132  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

of  dealing  with  white  traders.  If  so,  I  should  certainly 
find  some  means  of  reaching  a  city,  and  obtaining  news 
from  Europe,  and  from  my  dear  friends  in  Germany. 

"  I  therefore  said  to  the  Indian,  that  I  accepted  his 
offer,  and  was  ready  to  follow  him. 

"  He  immediately  arose,  and,  without  saying  another 
word,  he  followed  a  winding  path  which  led  to  the 
banks  of  the  river.  Making  his  way  through  the  thick 
reeds,  which  he  did  with  evident  difficulty,  he  soon 
re-appeared,  dragging  a  canoe  after  him,  which  he 
launched  upon  the  river,  and  into  which  we  both 
stepped. 

"  We  followed  the  course  of  the  stream  for  a  day 
and  night,  exchanging  but  few  words,  and  passing  our 
time  either  stretched  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and 
smoking,  or  taking  our  turn  with  the  paddle. 

"  It  was  with  no  ordinary  pleasure  that  I  accepted 
the  pipe  and  tobacco  which  the  chief  offered  me ;  for, 
since  my  separation  from  Lewis,  I  had  been  deprived 
of  this  comfort,  which  would  have  been  so  precious  in 
my  solitude. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  the  river,  mak 
ing  a  sudden  bend,  brought  us  up  to  a  collection  of 
huts,  in  tt.e  midst  of  a  plain  covered  with  young  trees. 
This  was  the  Indian  village  to  which  we  had  been 
journeying. 

"As  soon   as  our  approach   was  known,   a  great 


ARRIVAL  IN  THE  TRIBE.  13fi 

clamor  was  baard  on  shore.  All  the  inhabitants 
flocked  to  the  bank,  and,  by  their  noisy  reception, 
testified  the  respect  and  consideration  in  which  they 
held  my  companion. 

"  Naturally  enough,  I  was  the  object  of  general  curi 
osity  ;  and  it  must  be  granted  all  the  looks  fixed  upon 
me  were  by  no  means  the  most  agreeable  or  re-assuring. 

"  The  chief  landed,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and,  with 
out  giving  heed  to  the  acclamations  which  greeted 
him,  motioned  to  the  crowd  which  pressed  about  us  to 
stand  aside,  as,  with  a  grave  and  dignified  tread,  he 
moved  towards  a  wigwam  larger  than  the  others,  and 
standing  in  the  centre  of  the  village.  I  afterwards 
found  that  this  was  the  council- wig  warn. 

"  It  was  of  considerable  size,  and  was  built  of  four 
large  upright  trunks  of  trees,  which  supported  cross 
beams.  The  whole  was  filled  in  with  wihow-boughs 
and  osier,  which  were  afterwards  covered  over  with 
earth  and  clay. 

"  In  the  centre  was  a  hole,  which  served  as  a  fire 
place  ;  while,  exactly  above  it,  an  opening  was  cut  in 
the  roof,  to  let  out  the  smoke,  as  well  as  to  let  in  the 
light.  Around  the  sides  of  the  wigwam  were  places 
for  sleeping,  concealed  by  curtains  of  skins.  Before 
the  entrance  was  a  sort  of  trophy,  of  both  hunting  and 
war.  It  was  formed  of  two  buffaloes'  heads,  painted 
brilliantly  with  ochre  and  a  red  pigment,  and  sur« 


1.34  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

mounted  by  shields,  bows  and  arrows,  and  other  wea 
pons. 

"  On  entering  the  hut,  the  chief  made  me  a  sign  to 
sit  down  upon  a  mat,  which  was  reserved  for  strangers, 
and  placed  himself  opposite  me,  upon  a  kind  of  cushion. 

"  An  old  man  then  presented  himself j  with  the  calu 
met  of  peace,  which  he  lit,  and  presented  to  the  chief, 
and  then  retired  to  the  door. 

"  The  chief,  after  a  few  whiffs,  passed  the  pipe  to  me, 
and,  as  soon  as  I  had  imitated  him,  he  made  a  sign  to 
the  old  Indian,  who  appeared  to  act  as  a  sort  of  her 
ald. 

"Climbing  up  to  the  roof,  he  put  his  head  out  of  the 
opening  made  for  air  and  light,  and,  witli  a  strength 
of  lungs  which  must  have  made  him  audible  through 
out  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  village,  he  repeated 
what  the  chief  dictated  to  him,  and  convoked  the  war 
riors  and  ancients  to  the  council. 

"Soon  they  began  to  arrive,  one  by  one,  as  they 
were  summoned  or  announced.  Pushing  aside  the 
buffalo-skin  hung  before  the  door,  they  crossed  the 
wigwam  slowly  and  gravely,  and  took  their  seats  on 
the  skins  spread  upon  the  ground. 

"  I  counted  twenty,  ranged  around  the  hole  which 
served  as  a  hearth  or  fireplace.  They  were  wrorthy  the 
brush  of  a  great  painter;  for  the  Aricaras  (which  waa 
the  name  of  the  tribe  amongst  whom  I  now  found 


ARRIVAL  IN  THE   TIUBE.  1 3«: 

myself)  are  a  noble  race  of  Indians.  Large,  and  well, 
proportioned,  their  whole  appearance  denoted  a  savage 
pride,  and  was  marked  by  a  gravity  of  manner  which 
rendered  all  their  ceremonies  very  imposing. 

"As  soon  as  they  were  all  seated,  the  old  Indian 
again  lighted  the  pipe,  and  presented  it  to  the  chief, 
He  gave  three  whiffs,  looking,  as  he  did  so,  first  to 
wards  heaven,  then  towards  the  earth,  and  lastly 
towards  the  east.  When  this  ceremony  was  con 
cluded,  he  passed  it  to  the  nearest  warrior,  from  whom 
it  passed  round  the  whole  assemblage. 

"They  preserved  profound  silence  and  perfect  im 
passibility;  so  that,  except  a  few  glances  towards  me, 
nothing  showed  the  occasion  or  the  purpose  for  which 
they  had  been  summoned. 

"  The  calumet  ceremonies  being  at  length  ended,  the 
Indian  whom  I  had  accompanied,  and  whom  I  had  by 
this  time  discovered  to  be  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  arose 
with  majesty,  and,  giving  a  haughty  but  noble  glance 
around  the  circle  of  warriors,  began  his  speech. 

"While  with  the  Canadian  hunter,  I  had  learned 
many  words  in  use  among  the  red  men,  and  which  are 
used  for  inter-communication  among  the  tribes,  each 
of  which  has,  however,  its  own  peculiar  dialect.  This 
knowledge,  and  the  expressive  gestures  of  the  ora 
tors,  enabled  me  to  seize  pretty  closely  the  meaning 


1C6  THE   PRATRTE   CRUSOE. 

of  all  their  remarks.  The  details,  as  I  here  relate 
them,  I  learned  more  perfectly  a  little  later. 

"  The  chief  said,  that  he  had  gone  from  his  camp  in 
pursuit  of  a  troop  of  buffaloes ;  and  spoke  of  the  mo 
ment  when,  having  lassoed  the  young  buffalo,  the  fe 
male  had  attacked  him  unexpectedly,  and  tossed  him 
into  the  air,  adding,  that,  from  that  moment,  the  Great 
Spirit  had  thrown  a  veil  over  his  thoughts.  Then  he 
awoke  again  to  the  sun  of  heaven,  and  found  himself 
in  the  hands  of  a  pale-face,  who  was  washing  and 
dressing  his  wounds.  His  voice  was  harmoniously 
varied,  according  to  his  narration  ;  now  strong  and 
clear,  and  then,  again,  gentle,  and  even  tender.  It  was 
especially  the  last,  when  he  spoke  of  the  white  man, 
who,  by  his  care,  had  brought  back  the  soul  which  was 
ready  to  travel  to  the  prairies  of  YVacondah.  Then 
his  voice  was  deeply  emotional,  and  affected  by  his 
gratitude.  When  he  pointed  me  out  as  his  preserver, 
the  Indians  all  looked  at  me  with  kind  faces;  and  their 
usually  stern,  impassible  features  were  relaxed  into 
kindliness  and  approbation  at  the  words  of  their 
chief. 

"After  his  harangue,  the  chief  resumed  his  seat,  and 
awaited  in  silence  the  effect  of  his  words. 

"  An  ancient  warrior  rose  shortly  after,  when  a  suffi 
cient  period  for  Indian  dignity  had  elapsed,  and  went 


ARRIVAL  IN   THE  TRIBE.  137 

to  consult  each  of  the  other  warriors,  in  a  low  tone  of 
voice.     Then  he  came,  and  stood  before  me. 

"  'My  son,'  said  he, <  the  whole  tribe  of  the  Aricaras 
unite  and  thank  you  for  having  preserved  the  days  of 
the  Great  Eagle,  our  mighty  chief.  The  warriors  who 
are  here  assembled  desire  you  to  live  among  us,  as  a 
brother  and  a  friend.' 

"  The  words  of  the  old  man  were  received  with  a 
murmur  of  approbation,  and  I  bowed  my  head  in 
token  of  assent  and  thanks.  Each  one  of  them  came 
and  placed  the  palm  of  his  hand  on  the  top  of  my 
head,  in  testimony  of  friendship. 

"The  Great  Eagle  then  arose,  and  spoke  as  fol 
lows: — 

"'Ancients  and  warriors,'  said  he,  Ho  you,  the  head 
and  heart  of  my  nation,  am  I  grateful  for  what  you 
have  done  for  him  who  has  saved  the  life  of  your  chief. 
I  now  wish  to  add  to  the  recompense  which  my  pale 
brother  has  merited  by  admitting  him  to  my  own  wig 
wam.  Let  him  be  of  my  family.  He  shall  fill  the 
place  of  the  brother  whom  the  Great  Spirit  has  called 
away.  He  shall  share  my  arms  and  my  riches;  he 
shall  sit  by  my  hearth,  with  my  wife  and  my  sons ;  I 
%  will  acknowledge  him  as  my  own  brother,  before  the 
whole  tribe.' 

"  I  gave  him  my  hand  affectionately,  and,  amid  the 
murmurs  of  satisfaction  which  tVe  words  of  the  chief 


138  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

had  caused,  I  signified  my  desire  to  speak.  Silence 
was  at  once  imposed  upon  the  whole  of  the  council,  by 
their  own  sense  of  what  was  becoming  towards  the 
young  stranger  amongst  them. 

"  I  began  by  expressing,  as  well  as  it  was  possible, 
my  deep  gratitude  at  their  offers  and  great  kindness, 
and  how  painful  it  would  be  for  me  to  refuse  such 
proofs  of  their  good  feeling  towards  me.     Then  I  went 
on  to  explain  to  them,  that  I  had  a  country  to  which 
my  heart  was  greatly  attached ;  and  that  I  could  not 
thus  give  up  a  family  (for  I  still  had  a  lingering  hope 
to  discover  my  unknown  parents),  and  the  friends  to 
whom  I  was  so  attached,  when,  perhaps,  a  father  and  a 
mother,  aged  and  infirm,  might  ultimately  receive,  from 
the  son   they   had   never   seen,  the  care  which   their 
old   age  required.      I  assured  them  of  my  friendship 
and  devotedness,  and  said  that  my  intention  was,  in 
accordance   with  their  wishes,  to   remain    some   time 
among  them ;  and  that  they  should  find  mcr  by  their 
side,  sharing  their  labors  and  their  fatigues,  like  a  true 
child  of  the  prairie. 

"The  beginning  of  my  speech  had  been  received  by 
my  auditory  with  visible  sorrow  and  disappointment: 
but,  as  I  continued,  their  faces  grew  brighter;  and,  as 
I  pledged  myself  to  pass  some  time  with  them,  they 
looked  gratified. 

"The  Grent  Eagle  approached,  and  promised,  in  the 


ARRIVAL  IN   THE  TRIBE. 


139 


name  of  the  tribe,  that  I  should  be  free  to  leave  them, 
whenever  I  chose  to  return  to  the  land  of  my  fathers. 
Ifowever,  while  waiting  this  moment,  which  he  begged 
me  to  put  far  away,  I  was  free  to  live  as  an  Aricara, 
should  that  suit  me,  or  to  remain  under  their  protec 
tion  as  a  stranger,  to  whom  hospitality  was  due. 

"The  pipe  was   again   passed   round.      We   shook 
hands,  rose,  and  quitted  the  wigwam." 


CHAPTER  XVII, 

AW  INDIAN   VILLAGE.  —  WILLIAM  A   DOCTOR. 

"THE  chief  took  me  by  the  hand ;  and  we  made  the 
circuit  of  the  village,  to  the  sound  of  instruments  of 
music,  the  barking  of  dogs,  and  the  cries  of  the  women 
and  children. 

"We  were  preceded  by  the  old  Indian,  who  an 
nounced  to  the  tribe  that  I  was  recognized  as  the 
friend  of  the  chief.  The  warriors  and  old  men  fol 
lowed  us  to  a  wigwam,  where  the  Great  Eagle  installed 
me ;  and  they  all  laid  their  hands  upon  me  again,  and 
then  retired,  leaving  me  alone. 

"In  a  short  time,  several  young  women  brought  me 
some  dried  buffalo-meat,  some  smoked  fish,  and  some 
potatoes,  as  well  as  the  various  utensils  in  use  in  an 
Indian  household.  After  thanking  them,  I  made  a 
sign  that  I  would  like  to  take  some  repose. 

"  For  a  short  time  I  remained  plunged  in  sad  refleo 

141 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

tions,  thinking  gloomily  of  my  friends-;,  my  fai  of! 
home,  and  the  unhappy  life  which  I  should  probably 
lead  among  the  Indians,  who  are  generally  so  cruel  in 
disposition.  The  excitable  wish  to  study  novelty  had 
now  passed;  and,  in  my  calmer  reflection,  I  saw  that  I 
ought  to  have  profited  by  their  gratitude  to  obtain  a 
guide  as  far  as  St.  Louis.  I  fancied  that  I  should,  per 
haps,  be  a  witness  to  scenes  of  murder  and  carnage, 
and  my  courage  failed  me. 

"Recovering,  however,  after  a  while,  from  these 
gloomy  considerations,  I  reflected  upon  the  discoveries 
which  I  might  make  in  this  country,  so  wholly  un 
known,  —  the  various  natural  productions  of  which  I 
had  then  no  idea;  the  nations,  whose  manners  and  cus 
toms  and  traditions  I  might  learn;  besides,  recalling 
the  liberty  which  I  possessed  to  leave  them  when  it 
might  suit  me. 

"Accordingly,  having  shaken  off  my  gloom,  I  deter 
mined  upon  examining  the  village  where  I  now  found 
myself. 

"  It  was  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  I 
left  my  wigwam. 

"While  crossing  the  village,  I  noticed  thai  it  was 
divided  into  two  distinct  parts,  each  occupied  by  a 
section  of  the  tribe.  It  was  about  one  hundred  yards 
wide,  and  two-thirds  of  a  mile  long,  extending  along 
the  bank  of  the  rbrer.  The  wigwams  were  built  simi- 


AN   INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


larly  to  the  council-chamber,  and  were  in  the  shape  of 
a  truncated  cone. 

"The  plain  behind  the  village  was  bordered  by  a  num 
ber  of  wooded  hills ;  but,  elsewhere,  the  country  was 
almost  wholly  treeless,  and  presented  a  succession  of 
valleys  filled  with  tall  grass,  and  flowers  of  every  hue. 

« While  examining  the  face  of  the  country,  my  at 
tention  was  drawn  to  a  singular  spectacle.  Upon  the 
river  were  several  canoes ;  but  they  were  not  made 
like  those  which  I  had  hitherto  seen,  or,  indeed,  formed 
of  wood.  Each  was  composed  of  a  single  buffalo-skin, 
spread  out  upon  some  long  sticks  or  boughs. 

«In  each  of  these  was  a  squaw,  who  guided  the  frail 
boat  with  a  paddle,  and,  attached  to  the  after  part  of 
it,  floated  a  bundle  of  faggots,  for  her  household  fire. 
This  style  of  canoe  is  very  common  among  the  In 
dians.  The  facility  with  which  buffalo-skins  can  be 
rolled  up  and  transported  on  horseback  makes  them 
very  handy  for  carrying  small  loads  in  their  frail  holds, 
across  rivers  and  lakes. 

"  The  immense  number  of  horses  which  were  grazing 
in  the  valleys  and  on  the  hill  slopes  attested  the  pas 
sion  of  the  Aricaras  for  these  animals.  In  fact,  their 
great  wealth  consists  in  the  number  of  horses  they 
possess,  for  which  they  have  a  similar  affection  to  that 
of  an  Arab  for  his  courser.  The  Aricaras  manage  these 
beautiful  animals  with  admirable  skill,  and  justly  de* 


144  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

serve  their  reputation  as  the  best  horsemen  of  the 
prairies. 

"Most  of  their  horses  came  from  the  deserts  beyond, 
though  some  had  been  bought  of  the  Poncas,  the 
Pawnees,  or  other  south-westerly  tribes,  who  probably 
stole  them  from  the  whites,  in  some  of  their  numerous 
invasions.  Animals  of  this  class  were  recognizable  by 
their  short  tails,  and  were  destined  only  for  sale,  as  the 
Indians  themselves  do  not  like  even  the  slightest  muti 
lation  in  any  animal  they  at  all  esteem. 

"  For  several  days,  I  led  the  life  of  an  Indian ;  that 
is  to  say,  my  time' was  passed  in  entire  indolence,  all 
mere  labor  being  left  to  the  women,  whether  in  the 
field  or  in  the  house. 

"They  clean  the  wigwam,  cut  and  bring  the  wood 
for  the  kitchen,  and  prepare  the  game  which  their 
lords  have  killed.  They  also  cultivate  small  patches 
of  maize,  and  other  articles  of  food. 

"Their  time  of  enjoyment  is  sunset,  when  the  labors 
of  the  day  are  over.  Then  they  amuse  themselves 
with  various  games ;  or  else,  passing  their  heady 
through  the  opening  at  the  tops  of  their  wigwams, 
they  talk  over  the  various  events  of  the  day. 

"The  Indians,  while  at  their  villages,  spend  their  time 
on  the  banks  of  the  river,  on  the  slopes  of  the  prairies, 
or  seated  before  their  huts.  There  they  smoke,  and 
talk  over  the  affairs  of  their  tribe,  the  e\  ents  and  ex- 


AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE.  145 

ploits  of  the  last  hunt,  or  the  histories  of  their  warlike 
expeditions.  They  often,  also,  listen  to  the  deeds  of 
their  ancestors,  recited  by  some  old  warrior. 

"At  first,  I  joined  these  groups,  where  I  was  always 
received  courteously,  and  where  the  pipe  was  immedi 
ately  passed  to  me.  However,  when  the  novelty 
had  passed  away,  I  soon  grew  weary  of  this  existence, 
and  recommenced  my  wanderings. 

"Amid  this  rich  vegetation  I  daily  made  some  inter 
esting  discovery. 

"Here,  it  was  a  flower,  magnificently  colored; 
there,  an  insect,  in  gorgeous  array,  led  me  an  exciting 
chase;  or  some  new  plant  displayed  its  leaves,  deli 
cately  traced  as  lace.  Some  herbs  and  shrubs  I  found, 
whose  medicinal  qualities  had  been  explained  to  me 
by  Lewis.  These  I  carefully  collected,  in  chance  that 
I  might  need  them. 

"  Happy  in  being  able,  in  need,  to  show  my  grati 
tude  to  men  who  had  shown  me  such  generous  hospi 
tality,  I  employed  my  little  knowledge  in  relieving 
their  ailments.  - 

"God  allowed  my  efforts  to  succeed;  and,  in  a  short 
time,  I  was  looked  upon  by  the  Aricaras  more  as  a 
sorcerer  than  as  a  simple  mortal. 

"Two  facts,  which  occurred  in  immediate  succession, 
gave  me  a  reputation  as  a  doctor,  which  the  color  of 
10 


1-16  THE  PUAIFJE   CRUSOE. 

my  skin,  alone;  was  sufficient  to  warrant.  In  the  opin 
ion  of  the  Indians,  a  white  man  comes  into  the  world 
with  medical  science  infused  into  him ;  and  a  refusal  to 
assist  the  sick  is  looked  upon  by  them  as  a  sign  of  great 
ill-will. 

"  One  morning,  a  woman  in  great  apparent  grief, 
and  uttering  loud  outcries,  passed  quickly  along  to 
wards  the  wigwam  of  their  chief  sorcerer,  to  procure 
some  amulet  to  save  the  life  of  her  child,  which  was  in 
danger.  Stopping  her,  I  made  her  turn  back  with  me 
to  her  dwelling.  It  was  that  of  one  of  the  bravest 
warriors  of  the  tribe. 

A  child  of  seven  or  eight  years  was  stretched  upon 
some  mats  on  the  ground.  It  was  crying  violently, 
amid  sharp  spasms  or  convulsions. 

"  Its  chest  was  cold,  and  its  limbs  were  fast  stiffening 
and  numb.  Looking  around,  while  I  had  taken  the 
child  upon  iny  knee,  and  was  endeavoring  to  open  its 
mouth,  I  perceived,  on  the  ground,  some  branches  and 
leaves  of  azedarnch,  a  shrub  possessing  very  violent 
and  dangerous  properties.  The  child  had  evidently 
eaten  sufficient  of  its  fruit  to  .place  him  in  his  present 
serious  danger. 

"I  had  in.  my  hut  three  plants,  collected  in  m) 
walks,  which  are  powerful  emetics  •  they  were  the 
hohi ;  the  blue  lobelia,  a  charming  prairie-flower ;  and 


AN   INDIAN    VILLAGE.  147 

the  phytolacca,  a  shrub  whose  berries  ire  such  a  pow 
erful  purgative,  that  the  flesh  of  pigeon*  which  feed  on 
them  acquires  this  same  property. 

"This  last  I  hastened  back  to  get,  and  gave  the 
child  an  infusion  of  it  at  once.  The  effect  was  rapid 
and  decisive.  The  child  threw  up  a  considerable 
quantity  of  azedarach,  and,  in  a  short  time,  its  pain 
ceased.  I  laid  some  cotton-tree  leaves  upon  his 
stomach  and  chest,  and,  when  he  began  to  perspire, 
I  went  away,  with  the  blessing  of  the  poor  mother. 
In  a  short  time  the  child  was  running  about,  and  play 
ing  with  its  companions,  as  well  as  ever. 

"  Two  days  later,  the  father  returned  from  a  hunt, 
and  learned  what  had  occurred.  Tie  came  to  see  me, 
and,  after  a  discourse  which  was  full  of  feeling  and 
energy,  he  begged  me  to  accept  the  presents  which  he 
had  brought  me.  These  consisted  of  fruits,  mats, 
furs,  feathers,  hatchets,  a  gun,  some  knives,  and  house 
hold  utensils. 

"  To  refuse  would  have  been  an  insult ;  so  I  thank 
fully  accepted  his  magnificent  fee. 

"  The  news  of  this  cure  was  soon  spread  abroad  in 
the  village ;  and,  before  three  days  had  elapsed,  I  was 
visited  by  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  tribe,  who  begged 
me  to  come  to  his  wife,  who  was  slowly  dying  of  some 
unknown  disease. 

"Although  very  doubtful   of   my  own  skill,  I  fol- 


148  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

lowed  him,  being  naturally  desirous  of  losing  no 
opportunity  of  being  useful  to  a  fellow-creature. 
Stretched  upon  some  buffilo-robes,  I  found  a  woman 
who  was  still  young,  but  whose  deep  sunken  eyes  and 
sickly  appearance  made  her  appear  much  older  than  she 
really  was.  Her  feebleness  had  very  certainly  been 
much  increased  by  the  unskilful  treatment  of  the  sor 
cerer  of  the  tribe. 

"  Her  hand  was  burning  hot ;  and,  after  a  few  ques 
tions,  I  found  she  was  suffering  with  one  of  those  in 
termittent  fevers  which  slowly  undermine  the  whole 
constitution,  and  not  unfrequently  terminate  in  death. 

"I  recommended  her  husband  to  build  a  wigwam 
for  her  on  one  of  the  hills  which  overlooked  the  vil 
lage,  because  her  present  dwelling  was  damp  (being  on 
low  ground,  and  near  the  water)  ;  promising,  at  the 
same  time,  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  relieve  her. 

"  Going  out  of  the  village,  I  sought  a  spot  where  I 
had  seen  some  Tartarian  honeysuckle,  some  of  which 
I  gathered,  as  well  as  plantain,  which  was  everywhere 
abundant.  For  want  of  the  tulip-tree,  the  willow,  or, 
better  than  any  other,  quinquina  (Peruvian  bark),  I 
used  these  two  plants,  which,  I  was  aware,  were  of 
benefit  in  cases  of  intermittent  fever. 

"  My  treatment  was  commenced  the  following  day, 
before  the  access  of  fever,  and  continued  for  two  or 
three  weeks.  Its  effect,  and  the  change  of  dwelling, 


AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE.  149 

Boon  favored  her  recovery.  Her  strength  returned,  hei 
appetite  was  excited,  she  slept  quietly,  and  before  long 
was  able  to  move  about,  and  tend  to  her  usual  duties. 
"For  this,  also,  I  was  obliged  to  receive  visits  of 
thanksgiving,  gifts  of  every  kind,  and  protestations  of 
gratitude  and  devotedness,  which  I  was  only  too  care 
ful  to  cultivate.  The  affection  of  men  noted  for  theii 
fidelity  to  their  word  was  much  too  precious  for  me, 
alone  in  their  midst,  not  to  seek  it  most  earnestly,  or 
to  neglect  it  when  it  was  offered  me." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

A  BUFFALO-HUNT. THE    ANTELOPES.  —  A   PANIC. 

"ONE  evening,  the  Great  Eagle  asked  me  if  I  would 
like  to  assist  at  a  buffalo-hunt.  I  eagerly  replied  that 
I  would  follow  him  anywhere.  We  accordingly  started 
at  daybreak  the  following  morning. 

"We  travelled  for  a  good  distance;  and  I  saw  that 
we  were  entering  a  very  wild  district,  where  the  eye 
met  with  enormous  prairies,  which  were  enlivened  here 
and  there  with  innumerable  troops  of  buffaloes. 

"Sometimes  we  saw  these  animals  at  a  distance, 
crossing  the  prairie  slowly,  in  a  long  procession :  at 
other  times,  they  were  variously  grouped  in  the  midst 
of  a  vast  plain,  covered  with  flowers,  or  on  the  slope  of 
the  verdure-clad  hills.  Part  of  them  were  enjoying 
the  rich  pasturage,  while  others  were  lying  down,  al 
most  concealed  in  the  tall  grass. 
"We  reached  a  bank  of  the  river,  which  seemed 

151 


If) '2  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

jil most  covered  with  these  animals.  The  Indians 
launched  their  canoes,  and  manager!  to  kill  several 
buffaloes  while  they  were  endeavoring  to  ford  the 
stream. 

"  Continuing  the  hunt,  we  reached  a  small  island, 
where  they  had  landed.  Some  were  reposing  beneath 
the  shady  trees;  others  were  refreshing  themselves  with 
a  bath  in  the  water,  or  rolling  in  the  dirt,  to  get  rid  of 
the  troublesome  insects  which  annoyed  them. 

"  Several  of  the  best  hunters  entered  a  large  boat, 
and,  profiting  by  a  good  breeze,  ascended  the  stream 
gently,  without  making  any  noise.  The  bisons  re 
mained  quietly  upon  the  shore,  ignorant  of  the  dangei 
which  threatened  them.  The  hunters  managed  to  sur 
round  the  fattest  of  the  troop,  and,  by  firing  altogether, 
killed  a  large  number. 

"  Among  these  animals,  we  saw  many  elks,  and  some 
charming  antelopes.  The  latter  is  is  the  most  graceful 
and  admirable  animal  of  the  Western  prairies. 

There  are  in  this  country  two  species  of  antelopes ; 
one  about  the  size  of  a  deer,  the  other  not  larger  than 
a  goat.  Their  color  is  a  clear  fawn,  with  white  streaks, 
and  their  horns  are  small,  like  those  of  the  deer. 

"  Nothing  can  equal  the  elegance  and  delicacy  of 
their  limbs,  in  which  lightness,  elasticity,  and  strength 
are  combined  in  a  remarkable  manner.  Every  motion 
of  this  charming  creature  is  supple  and  graceful.  The} 


A   BUFFALO    HUNT.  —  A    PANIC.  lf>3 

are  fantastic  and  timid,  living  on  the  plains,  and  easily 
alarmed.  When  they  are,  they  fly  with  such  rapidity, 
that  pursuit  is  useless;  but  their  curiosity  often  costs 
them  their  life. 

1  When  they  have  fled  to  a  certain  distance,  and 
have  left  the  hunter  far  behind,  they  stop  suddenly, 
and  turn  to  look  at  the  occasion  of  their  fright.  If  the 
hunter  has  not  followed  them,  yielding  to  curiosity, 
they  return  to  the  place  where  they  were  first  fright 
ened,  and  thus  fall  into  the  snare  which  awaits  them. 

"When  our  buffalo-hunt  was  over,  I  expressed  re 
gret  that  I  had  not  captured  an  antelope  in  order  to 
examine  this  charming  animal  still  nearer.  The  Great 
Eagle  replied,  that,  if  I  would  come  with  him,  he  would 
get  me  one.  Consequently  I  followed  him  with  plea 
sure,  away  from  the  other  hunters. 

"  We  had  to  walk  during  some  four  hours ;  for  the 
antelopes,  frightened  by  the  reports  of  the  guns,  had 
retired  farther  from  us,  across  the  prairies. 

"At  last  we  perceived  a  troop.  Immediately  the 
chief  recommended  me  to  remain  quiet,  and,  throwing 
himself  on  his  face  in  the  tall  grass,  he  bade  me  do  the 
same.  To  satisfy  my  desire  to  catch  one  alive,  he  set 
a  trap  near  by  our  place  of  concealment. 

"  Knowing  the  wild  character  of  the  antelope,  I  was 
anxious  to  see  how  the  Great  Eagle  would  manage  to 
draw  him  into  the  snare;  but  I  was  soon  satisfied. 


I  fit  THE   PUATPJE   CRUSOE. 

"  He  fastened  a  piece  of  skin  to  a  pole  which  he 
had  brought  with  him,  and  waved  it  gently  above  the 
grass. 

"  I  soon  saw  one  of  those  nearest  us  give  a  shy  look 
at  the  object  which  floated  in  the  air;  then,  as  if 
yielding  to  an  influence  similar  to  that  which  snakes 
are  said  to  exert,  it  cautiously  approached,  stopping 
occasionally,  until,  at  last,  it  fell  a  victim  to  its  curi 
osity. 

"  We  immediately  came  out  from  our  hiding-place ; 
for  its  wild  endeavors  to  get  out  of  the  trap  'might 
have  broken  its  legs.  The  Great  Eagle,  however,  tied 
them  together,  and  I  carried  off  my  prize  on  my  back. 
"  I  rejoiced  in  the  idea  of  preserving  it  to  be  offered 
to  Bertha,  when  I  should  be  able  to  re-visit  Europe ; 
but  I  soon  had  to  renounce  this  intention.  Notwith 
standing  all  my  efforts,  the  poor  animal  would  take  no 
nourishment ;  and,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  kill  it,  at  the 
end  of  two  days  I  set  it  free.  Deeply  as  I  regretted 
this,  it  would  have  caused  me  greater  pain  to  deprive 
it  of  its  life  by  holding  it  captive. 

"  Some  days  after  our  return,  the  village  was  excited 
by  the  report  that  a  party  of  Sioux,  some  five  hundred 
Btrong,  were  approaching  the  camp. 

"The  Aricaras,  who  have  suffered  much  in  their 
struggles  with  this  cruel  and  ferocious  tribe,  usually 
take  greater  precautions  against  surprise  than  the 


A   BUFFALO-HUNT. —  A   PANIC.  15f> 

Indian  tribes.  They  place  sentinels  upon  sur 
rounding  eminences.  As  the  prairies  stretch  far  out 
of  sight,  like  a  vast  ocean,  no  one  can  show  himself, 
without  being  signalized  at  once,  which  information  is 
communicated  around  with  great  rapidity.  They  have 
certain  signs  agreed  upon,  something  after  the  style  of 
our  telegraph. 

"Thus,  when  they  see  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  they  begin 
to  walk  backwards  and  forwards ;  but,  should  it  be  a 
troop  of  enemies  that  they  see,  they  run  from  left  to 
right,  crossing  each  other  rapidly.  At  this  signal,  the 
whole  tribe  rushes  to  arms. 

"  One  afternoon  we  had  quite  a  serious  alarm. 

"  Four  sentinels,  stationed  on  the  top  of  a  small  hill, 
began  to  gallop,  and  cross  each  other's  paths.  Every 
one  rushed  to  prepare  for  the  fight. 

"  Men,  women,  and  children  cried  and  yelled ;  the 
dogs  barked,  and  came  close  to  the  huts.  Some  war 
riors  leaped  upon  their  horses  to  reconnoitre.  Others 
prepared  their  weapons  and  their  bodies,  and  donned 
their  tufts  of  feathers.  Some  went  entirely  naked, 
carrying  only  lance  and  shield.  The  women  and  chil 
dren  clambered  to  the  tops  of  the  wigwams,  where  their 
vociferations  added  to  the  confusion. 

"The  old  men  incapable  of  bearing  arms  watched 
the  entrance  to  the  village,  and,  when  the  warriors 
passed,  they  exhorted  them  to  conquer  or  perish. 


I*r)G  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"  Soon  1  saw  the  cavalry  advance,  commanded  by 
the  Great  Eagle.  There  were  about  five  hundred  men, 
perfectly  armed,  and  mounted  on  horses  full  of  life  and 
vigor.  They  brandished  their  weapons,  uttering  their 
war-cries,  and  making  the  place  resound  with  their  de 
fiance  of  the  Sioux. 

"  I  did  not  hesitate  to  follow.  The  approach  of  dan 
ger,  preparations  for  the  fight,  and  the  desire  to  signal 
ize  myself  amid  all  these  warriors  whom  I  personally 
knew,  animated  me  so,  that  I  leaped  upon  a  horse,  and 
rode  to  the  side  of  the  chief.  He  seemed  to  notice 
me  with  some  surprise ;  but,  seeing  by  my  eye  that  I 
was  serious  in  my  resolution,  he  looked  highly  pleased, 
and,  taking  his  own  tomahawk  from  his  saddle,  pre 
sented  it  to  me. 

"  This  was  the  greatest  mark  of  esteem  which  he 
could  offer ;  and,  thanking  him  with  a  gesture,  I  fell  in 
close  behind  him. 

"  When  we  had  ridden  some  little  time,  one  of  our 
scouts  came  in,  and  reported  that  the  enemy,  finding 
his  project  discovered,  had  retired  in  all  haste,  and  that 
thus  the  danger  was  over. 

"  Orders  were  given  to  watch,  with  great  attention, 
for  fear  of  a  surprise ;  and  we  returned  to  c?mp. 

"  When  dismounting,  I  wished  to  return  the  toma 
hawk  to  the  chief  who  had  handed  it  to  me ;  but  the 
Great  Eagle  refused  it,  and,  beckoning  to  me  as  well  as 


A   BUFFALO-HUNT.  — A   PANIC.  157 

to  his  warriors  to  follow  him,  he  entered  the  council- 
wigwam.  Then,  after  the  usual  ceremonies  had  taken 
place,  he  arose  slowly,  and  with  great  dignity,  looking 
around  upon  the  assembly,  spoke  thus :  — 

"4  Chiefs  and  warriors,  the  Great  Spirit  has  smiled 
upon  his  people,  and  has  allowed  a  powerful  White 
Sorcerer  to  come  among  us  for  our  good.  You  have 
already  seen  the  wicked  spirits  who  had  taken  posses 
sion  of  the  bodies  of  our  wives  and  children  fly  before 
the  great  power  of  the  White  Sorcerer.  To-day  we 
are  witnesses  of  a  new  proof  of  the  power  which  the 
Wacondah  has  given  to  his  pale  son.  The  Sioux,  our 
most  bitter  enemies,  have  fled  like  squaws  when  they 
saw  this  White  Sorcerer  at  our  h&ad.  To  him  do  we 
owe  that  the  scalps  of  our  brethren  and  of  ourselves  do 
not  hang  at  the  doors  of  our  enemy's  wigwams.  He 
has  saved  our  nation,  and  cured  our  women  and  chil 
dren.  Let  him,  therefore,  be  our  chief,  and  lead  us  on 
the  war-trail.  We  will  obey  him.  Let  him,  therefore, 
accept  the  token  of  command.' 

"With  these  words,  he  loosed  the  circlet  of  eagle- 
feathers  which  bound  his  own  brows,  and  laid  it  at  my 
feet. 

"  Such  is  the  superstition  of  these  people,  who  do 
not  understand  the  medicine  of  the  whites,  that  they 
actually  imagine  it  a  work  of  sorcery  to  cure  disease 
According  to  them,  the  White  Sorcerer  is  so  powerful, 


158  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

that  he  who  would  venture  to  ignore  or  resist  hi« 
power  would  be  instantly  possessed  by  the  bad  spirits, 
and  would  waste  gradually  away,  or  die  immediately. 

"Hence,  notwithstanding  the  grief  which  the  propo 
sition  of  the  Great  Eagle  caused  them,  no  one  of  the 
warriors  dared  to  raise  his  voice  to  oppose  it. 
"  Profiting  by  their  credulity,  I  did  not  abuse  it. 
"  1  was  not  sorry  to  see  my  credit  and  standing  aug 
mented  among  them,  and  wished  to  preserve  it,  because 
it  might  one  day  be  of  service  to  me.     Nevertheless,  I 
did  not,  by  any  means,  aspire  or  desire  to  become  a 
chief  of  the  red  men. 

"  In  turn,  arising,  I  answered,  that  the  Great  Spirit 
had  indeed  sent  me  to  them  for  the  happiness  of 
his  beloved  children,  but  that  he  did  not  wish  the  Great 
Eagle,  one  of  the  most  powerful  chiefs  of  the  prairies, 
to  give  up  his  authority  to  me.  On  the  contrary,  he 
desired  him  to  keep  it  in  order  to  conduct  his  people 
again  to  victory. 

"My  words  were  received  with  shouts  of  joy;  and 
the  Great  Eagle  kissed  me  Indian  fashion,  that  is  on 
the  mouth.  This  species  of  embrace,  however,  was  2 
ceremony  which  I  would  most  willingly  have  been  ex 
cused  from  participating  in,  notwithstanding  my  true 
friendly  feeling  for  the  noble  chief." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A   BATTLE.  —  WILLIAM    SAVED    BY    THE    GREAT   EAGLE, 

"  SOME  months  later,  as  we  were  returning  from  a 
great  hunt,  a  singular  noise  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  Indians;  but  ray  ears  had  not  yet  acquired  tlio 
delicacy  of  perception  of  sound  which  the  red  man 
possesses  in  such  an  eminent  degree. 

"In  fact,  the  slightest  sound,  at  a  very  great  distance, 
will  awaken  his  attention.  He  recognizes  the  differ 
ence  which  exists  between  the  step  of  a  man  of  his 
own  tribe  and  that  of  one  belonging  to  another. 

"The  Panther,  one  of  their  most  skilful  warriors, 
was  sent  to  discover  the  number  and  the  nature  of  the 
enemy  whom  they  had  to  combat.  I  saw  him  depart  si 
lently  and  rapidly  through  the  bushes.  His  movements 
were  so  adroit,  that  I  soon  lost  sight  of  him.  No  ap 
pearance  of  him  was  left  in  the  prairie,  no  grass  seemed 
to  be  pressed  down  where  he  had  passed.  We  awaited 
in  profound  silence  the  return  of  our  scout. 

159 


160  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE, 

"Shortly  after,  the  Great  Eagle,  near  whom  I  was 
sitting,  made  a  motion  to  take  his  rifle,  but,  throwing 
his  head  forward,  he  seemed  satisfied,  and  returned  to 
his  former  impassibility. 

"In  a  few  more  minutes, an  Indian  made  his  appear 
nnce  close  to  us.  I  could  not  repress  an  exclamation 
of  surprise,  and  was  about  to  seize  a  weapon,  when  the 
chief  pronounced  the  word  4  Panther.'  At  once  I  rec 
ognized  him  who  had  been  sent  to  scout ;  but  I  could 
never  explain  to  myself  how  he  had  managed  to  return 
by  the  side  opposite  to  that  by  which  he  departed,  and 
that  too,  without  any  noise  being  made,  or  any  motion 
in  the  long  grass  of  the  prairie. 

"  The  Panther  told  us  that  a  party  of  Sioux  were 
hunting  buffaloes  in  the  neighborhood.  lie,  however, 
suspected,  that,  under  pretence  of  a  hunt,  they  con 
cealed  the  design  of  approaching  our  village,  because 
they  were  armed  for  battle. 

"  The  Great  Eagle  immediately  made  his  dispositions 
for  the  purpose  of  causing  them  to  tall  into  an  ambus 
cade. 

"Near  us  was  a  small  grove,  which  was  joined  to  the 
woody  part  of  a  hill  that  closed  in  the  plain  on  one 
side.  The  sounds  which  we  heard  came  from  beyond 
this  wood,  so  that  we  were  completely  hidden  from  the 
eyes  of  the  Sioux. 

*Our  chief  ordered  us  all  to  pass  among  the  trees  on 


ETC.  161 

the  edge  of  the  wood,  and  on  the  side  where  our  adver 
saries  would  approach. 

"  The  Aricaras  stood  quietly  beside  their  horses,  in 
telligent  animals,  who  seemed  to  understand  that  one- 
half  the  battle  depended  upon  them,  in  consequence  of 
which,  no  neighing,  and  not  the  slightest  movement, 
betrayed  their  presence.- 

"  The  Sioux  soon  appeared  pursuing  several  buffaloes. 

"  Immediately  the  Great  Eagle  leaped  upon  his  horse, 
and,  followed  by  all  his  warriors,  precipitated  himself 
upon  the  enemy,  who,  not  expecting  our  attack,  at  first 
took  to  flight.  However,  the  courage  natural  to  their 
tribe  made  them  return  to  the  contest  after  joining 
their  chief  force;  and  they  then  advanced,  uttering 
loud  war-cries. 

"I  must  own  that,  at  this  moment,  I  lost  all  presence 
of  mind.  It  was  the  first  time  that  I  was  present  at 
an  engagement  with  these  Indians ;  and  their  yelling 
appeared  so  savage  and  extraordinary,  that  I  at  first  re 
mained  motionless  as  if  I  had  been  turned  into  marble. 

"The  Sioux  formed  rapidly  in  a  semicircle,  and 
sought  to  envelop  us.  Our  great  chief,  nevertheless, 
saw  the  danger;  and,  by  a  movement  equally  well 
ordered  and  executed,  the  line  of  the  Sioux  was  obliged 
to  turn  upon  its  left  to  prevent  being  flanked  by  us. 

"  From  this  "moment  the  melee  became  general.  At 
first,  nothing  -•- *uld  be  heard  but  the  reports  of  rifles, 


162  THE   PR  A  HUE   CRUSOE. 

accompanied  with  the  horrible  yells  of  the  savages:  then 
each  one  seized  his  tomahawk  and  rushed,  brandishing 
it  upon  whatever  adversary  chanced  to  be  next  him. 

"  After  the  first  few  moments  of  the  struggle,  I  re 
collected  my  scattered  senses,  and,  excited  by  the  smell 
of  powder,  rushed  into  the  struggle. 

"  A  tall  Sioux,  with  repulsive  visage,  and  extraordi 
narily  painted,  perceived  me,  and,  urging  his  horse  across 
my  path,  directed  a  stroke  of  his  tomahawk  at  me, 
which,  thanks  to  the  prompt  action  of  the  animal  I  was 
riding,  merely  grazed  my  arm  without  wounding  me. 
The  Sioux  had  dashed  in  so  swiftly,  that  his  horse 
made  two  or  three  steps  beyond  me,  before  he  could 
check  it*  As  he  returned,  I  fired  my  rifle,  and  falling 
from  his  saddle,  with  a  terrible  cry  of  rage,  he  expired. 

"  This  first  victory  augmented  rny  ardor,  and,  seizing 
the  tomahawk  which  hung  from  my  saddle,  I  followed 
towards  the  spot  where  I  saw  the  tall  feather  of  the 
Great  Eagle  waving  in  the  fray.  A  horrible  carnage 
had  been  going  on  around  him  and  two  Aricaras, 
who  were  surrounded  by  Sioux.  There  were  already 
lying  dead  around  them  several  of  our  brave  lellows 
who  had  fallen  while  defending  their  chief. 

"lie  was  worthy  of  his  name.  His  eyes,  which 
seemed  literally  to  flash  with  light,  appeared  to  mock 
at  the  death  which  threatened  him  on  every  side.  His 
tomahawk  fell  every  moment.  Swung  by  a  firm  hand, 


A   BATTLE,   ETC. 

each  time  it  was  raised  it  was  stained  by  the  blood  of 
another  Sioux  who  fell  in  death  beneatli  his  terrible 
arm. 

"  J  ust  as  I  approached,  full  gallop,  his  strength  began 
to  fail.  One  of  his  defenders  had  just  been  wounded 
by  a  knife.  With  a  fury  of  which  I  did  not  know  my- 
self  capable,  I  attacked  from  behind  the  Sioux  who 
were  pressing  on  him,  and  wielded  so  successfully  the 
terrible  weapon  which  he  had  given  me,  that  two  of 
his  stoutest  enemies  fell  beneath  its  blows. 

44 Our  chief  was  relieved;  but  I  had  fallen  into  a  still 
greater  peril.  I  was  scarcely  master  of  my  horse,  and 
was  trying  to  manage  it  while  I  was  also  defending 
myself,  when  a  Sioux,  wounded,  and  stretched  upon  the 
ground,  gave  the  poor  beast  such  a  violent  blow  with 
his  knife  in  the  stomach,  that  it  fell,  crushing  the  sav 
age  who  dealt  the  blow,  and  throwing  me  violently  to 
the  earth. 

"I  felt  myself  lost;  and  a  dozen  knives  and  hatchets 
were  raised  to  despatch  me,  when  a  terrible  war-cry 
younded  at  my  side,  and  a  tomahawk  with  rapid  circle 
turned  aside  the  weapons  which  menaced  me.  The 
Great  Eagle  had  seen  me  fall,  and  came,  with  lightning 
speed,  to  pay  me,  in  turn,  the  debt  of  gratitude  which 
he  had  so  recently  incurred. 

"  Followed  by  several  warriors,  he  overturned  all  who 
opposed  him.  In  a  very  few  moments,  I  was  freed,  and 


164  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

rose  without  a  single  wound,  although  I  was  stained 
with  the  blood  which  covered  the  ground. 

"  This  decided  the  victory. 

"All  the  Sioux  whom  the  swiftness  of  their  horses 
did  not  preserve  from  the  blows  of  the  Aricaras  were 
pitilessly  murdered,  and  I  saw,  when  the  fray  had 
ended,  all  around  me  the  traces  of  a  shocking  massacre. 

"The  Aricaras  who  survived,  even  the  wounded, 
joined  their  voices  in  one  long,  last  battle-cry  of  vic 
tory,  and  then  proceeded  to  indulge  in  the  repulsive 
occupation  of  scalping  their  dead  enemies. 

"  The  scalp  thus  torn  from  the  head  of  their  foes  is, 
in  their  eyes,  a  great  trophy,  which  the  Indian  hangs 
from  his  waist  when  he  goes  to  battle,  and  at  the  door 
of  his  wigwam  in  time  of  peace. 

"  I  turned  my  eyes  in  horror  from  this  sight,  and 
went  to  sit  down  at  a  distance,  that  I  might  not  be  a 
witness  of  this  horrible  mutilation. 

"The  Great  Eagle  came  up,  and  said  that  I  also 
ought  to  take  the  scalp  of  the  enemies  whom  I  had 
killed,  that  I  might  present  myself  as  a  true  chief  be 
fore  the  Manitou. 

"My  reply  was  that  the  custom  of  my  ountry  *or- 
bade  such  things.  I  had  killed  the  Sioux  only  in 
defence  of  my  life  and  that  of  men  who  had  received 
me  as  a  brother,  and  that  I  would  leave  their  scalps  tc 
whoever  wished  to  take  them. 


A    1UTTLE,    ETC.  I«5 

"  To  these  words  he  merely  replied  with  a  grunt,  that 
is  significative  of  great  surprise  among  the  Indians, 
and.  disdaining  to  say  any  more  upon  the  subject,  went 
away  to  collect  his  warriors,  and  prepare  to  retuni 
home." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TRIUMPHAL  RETURN.— THE   FUNERAL. 

«  AFTER  a  march  of  two   days,  we  arrived   about 
three  miles  from  camp  about  sunrise. 

«  As  this  is  a  common  hour  for  surprises  among  t 

Indians,  the  sentinels  gave  the  alarm,  mistakin 
the  distance  for  Sioux. 

«We  soon  saw  the  tops  of  the  wigwams  covered 
with  the  Aricaras;  and  the  Great  Eagle  seat  a  me* 
senger  forward  to  re-assure  his  tribe,  and  to  announce 
the  bloody  conflict  in  which  we  had  defeated  the 
Sioux,  with  a  loss  of  only  eighteen  killed  and 

wounded.  . 

a  As  soon  as  the  news  of  the  victory  was  m 
the  village  was  filled  with  joy;  and  a  brilliant  rccrpti 
was  prepared  for  us. 

"All  the  finest  equipments  of  the  warriors  were  t 
to  them,  that  they  might  appear  with  all  the  mag 
cence  possible. 


1G8  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"As  I  knew  that  their  preparations  w<  '/ J  require, 
probably,  a  good  portion  of  the  day,  and  as  I  v  ished  to 
witness  a  ceremony  which  I  might  never  have  another 
occasion  to  enjoy,  I  took  leave  of  the  Great  Eagle,  am) 
decided  to  return  to  the  village,  where  my  (,  xploits  ha") 
already  been  made  known  by  the  messenger. 

"My  arrival  caused  a  general  surprise,  as  they  ex 
pected  that  I  would  paint  and  decorate  myself  like  the 
other  warriors.  However,  the  characteristic  tacilu/nity 
of  the  race  prevented  them  from  asking  any  questions 

"Those  who  had  not  taken  part  in  the  affair  put  on 
their  finest  array  of  ornaments  to  do  honor  to  tl  e  com 
ing  heroes. 

"The  Aricaras,  like  most  Indian  tribes,  generally  go 
nearly  naked.  They,  nevertheless,  have  a  £,v*od  toilet 
for  ceremonial  occasions. 

"  At  such  times,  they  usually  wear  an  np[w»r  garment 
of  some  bright  color,  ordinarily  blue  or  i*jd.  They 
wrap  their  legs  in  antelope-skins,  ornamento-i  with  por 
cupine-quills  of  richly  variegated  colors,  fastened  to 
their  shoulders,  and  falling  gracefully  from  them,  is  a 
handsome  mantle  of  buffalo-skin.  A  well-filled  quiver 
is  slung  across  their  back,  and  the  head  is  surmounted 
by  a  coronet  of  feathers.  Of  these,  they  prefer  those 
of  the  swan.  The  most  renowned  chiefs  alone  are 
allowed  to  wear  those  of  the  black  eagle,  which  bird  is 
held  as  sacred  by  all  tribes  of  Indians. 


TRIUMPHAL    RETURN.  —  FUNERAL.  1G9 

"  One  who  has  killed  an  enemy  with  his  own  hand 
may  attach  a  fox's  or  wolf's  tail  to  the  heels  of  his 
moccasons,  while  those  who  have  killed  a  grisly  bear 
wear  his  claws  for  a  necklace.  This  is  the  most  honor- 
able  decoration  of  a  hunter,  and  entitles  him  to  enter 
the  council  of  the  nation. 

«  At  the  camp,  as  well  as  in  the  village,  all  were  busy 
preparing  for  the  coming  ceremony. 

"  An  Indian's  state  toilet  is  an  operation  which  re 
quires  much  care  and  labor;  for  he  often  paints  himself 
from  head  to  foot :  and  the  combination  of  lines  and 
emblems,  of  every  conceivable  nature  and  color,  re 
quires  considerable  skill.  So  a  full  quarter  of  the  day 
passed,  and  nothing,  as  yet,  announced  the  triumphal 
march  of  the  victors. 

"Meanwhile,  deep  silence  reigned  in  the  village. 
Many  of  the  inhabitants  had  gone  to  meet  the  victors. 
The  rest  remained  in  silent  suspense.  All  labor  was 
suspended;  and  no  one  was  visible,  save  the  women  who 
were  preparing  the  "feast  for  the  warriors.  Tin;  very 
children  seemed  unwilling  to  disturb  the  solemn  pause 
that  occurred  previous  to  the  triumphal  entrance  of 
their  fathers  and  relatives. 

"Towards  noon,  the  sound  of  instruments  and 
human  voices  announced  that  the  procession  was  on 
the  march.  The  old  men  and  several  of  the  women 


t  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

left  their  wigwams  to  receive  the  victors  at  the  en- 
trance  of  the  village. 

"  The  sight  was  to  me  both  strange  and  picturesque, 
us  they  appeared  ascending  a  hill  with  slow  and  meas- 
ired  steps  to  the  cadence  of  their  chants  and  savage 
music. 

"  Their  war  banners,  composed  of  the  skins  of  ani 
mals,  floated  in  the  wind.  The  feathers,  paint,  and 
silver  ornaments,  with  which  they  had  decked  them 
selves,  glittered  beneath  the  rays  of  the  July  sun. 

"  There  was  something  really  solemn  and  majestic  in 
their  appearance. 

"  The  Aricaras  are  divided  into  four  bands,  or  com 
panies,  each  bearing  the  name  of  some  animal  or  bird, 
as  the  buffalo,  the  bear,  the  dog,  and  the  phe.'isfiiit. 
The  one  most  esteemed  is  that  of  the  dog,  which  is 
composed  of  young  men  under  thirty.  To  belong  to 
this  band,  one  must  have  performed  some  striking 
deed,  as  it  is  always  looked  to  in  desperate  affairs,  and 
forms  a  sort  of  reserve-guard. 

"The  principal  chief  of  the  tribe  is  chosen  from 
among  the  Dogs,  and  among  them  the  Great  Eagle 
performed  his  first  feats  of  arms,  and  displayed  his 
courage. 

"  These  bands  approached  separately,  under  resp  Act 
ive  chiefs.  Those  on  foot  came  first  in  line,  ten  der>pf 
and  afterwards  followed  those  who  were  mounted. 


TRIUMPHAL  RETURN.  —  FUNERAL.  171 

u  In  front  of  each  band  marched  a  warrior,  holding, 
as  a  standard,  a  lance  or  a  bow,  ornamented  with  neck 
laces  of  porcupine-quills,  skins  of  animals,  and  painted 
feathers.  Several  carried,  as  trophies,  scalps  hanging 
from  long  poles,  all  bloody  and  matted  as  they  swung 
in  the  wind.  There  was  also  at  the  head  of  each  band 
a  sort  of  bard  or  minstrel,  who  sang  the  exploits  of  the 
fight ;  while  several  Indians  did  their  best  to  produce 
sounds,  for  I  am  unable  to  call  them  music,  from  their 
various  instruments. 

"  The  warriors  were  not  all  armed  in  the  same  man 
ner.  Some  had  guns,  and  others  bows  and  arrows,  or 
tomahawks.  All  had  buffalo-hide  bucklers,  or  shields, 
winch  is  the  general  means  of  defence  used  by  the 
Indians  of  the  desert,  who  have  not  the  shelter  of 
the  woods  to  protect  them  from  the  arrows  of  their 
enemies. 

"They  were  all  painted  in  the  most  horrible  manner, 
according  to  individual  taste.  Some,  even,  had  bloody 
hands  painted  near  their  mouths,  to  signify  that  they 
had  taken  the  life  of  an  adversary. 

"As  they  approached  the  village,  they  were  received 
with  acclamations  of  joy,  joined  with  lamentations  for 
the  warriors  who  had  died  on  the  field.  They,  how 
ever,  maintained  solemn,  impassible  features  as  they 
continued  their  slow  advance. 

"Between  the  Great  Eagle  and   another  principal 


172  THE  PRATRTE   CRUSOE. 

chief  rode  a  young  warrior  who  had  distinguished 
himself  in  the  battle.  He  was  so  severely  wounded 
that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  he  could  sit 
upon  his  horse.  But,  in  spite  of  his  sufferings,  he 
preserved  a  calm  countenance,  as  if  regardless  of  his 
condition. 

"  His  poor  mother,  who  had  learned  his  condition, 
ran  towards  him,  crying,  and  shedding  bitter  tears.  He, 
until  the  last,  maintained  the  calm  stoicism  of  a  true 
Indian  warrior.  No  emotion  was  visible  in  his  face, 
and  yet  he  expired  in  a  few  moments  after  reaching  the 
wigwam  of  his  parent. 

"Meanwhile,  the  village  was  a  scene  of  almost  deliri 
ous  joy. 

"The  banners,  scalps,  bucklers,  and  other  troph'cs 
captured  from  the  Sioux,  were  fixed  on  poles,  ami  sus 
pended  in  front  of  the  wigwams.  The  Indians  exeeMted 
their  war-dance,  accompanied  with  a  battle-song  :ni,l 
music,  so  outrageously  discordant,  th;:t  I  was  almost 
deafened  by  it;  while  heralds  at-anns,  if  I  may  call  them 
so,  went  from  hut  to  hut,  repeating  in  loud  tones  the 
details  of  the  combat  and  the  bold  deeds  of  the 
warriors. 

"Amid  this  noisy  festival,  I  caught  some  strange 
sounds,  apparently  of  mourning,  from  the  neighboring 
hills;  and,  inquiring  what  these  were,  an  Indian  informed 
me  that  the  women  were  there  lamenting  the  loss  of 


TRIUMPHAL   RETURN.  —  FUNERAL.  173 

their  dead.  They  were  the  mothers,  wives,  and  daugh 
ters  of  those  who  had  fallen  beneath  the  blows  of  tho 
Sioux,  and  had  retired  to  solitude  where  they  might 
freely  indulge  their  grief. 

•<  The  rejoicings  lasted  until  night,  and,  if  the  Sioux 
had  then  come  to  attack  their  enemies,  I  really  do  not 
not  know  what  might  have  happened. 

"  The  next  day,  at  early  dawn,  I  was  awakened  by 
the  Great  Eagle,  who  came  to  invite  me  to  assist  at  the 
funeral  ceremonies.  I  followed  him,  and,  in  the  middle 
of  the  village,  I  found  all  the  tribe  assembled, — no  longer 
joyous  for  their  victory,  as  on  the  preceding  day,  but 
seated  in  profound  silence,  and  representing  a  nation  in 
mourning. 

"  When  we  arrived,  the  bodies  of  eighteen  dead 
braves  had  been  already  committed  to  the  earth,  and 
there  remained  only  the  young  Indian  who  had  expired 
at  the  very  door  of  his  wigwam. 

"The  body  was  seated  as  if  he  were  living,  in  a 
noble  and  imposing  attitude,  and  clothed  in  his  richest 
ornaments.  A  crown  of  eagle's  plumes  was  on  His 
head;  necklaces,  bracelets,  and  medals  covered  hid 
body:  but  his  sightless  eye  and  decomposing  features 
marked  too  plainly  the  presence  of  death  for  any  one 
to  mistake  it. 

"  At  his  feet  were  his  lance  and  shield.  On  his  knees 
were  his  bow  and  arrows.  Near  him  his  horse,  capari- 


174  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

soned  as  for  war,  waited  to  be  immolated  on  his  grave. 
He  seemed  to  understand  the  universal  grief;  for  his 
head  was  drooped  as  he  gazed  sadly  at  the  remains  of 
his  former  master. 

"An  old  man  arose,  and  slowly  spoke  as  follows:  — 

"'Brother,  the  Manitou  had  need  of  a  great  warrior. 
He  called  one  of  his  children,  and  our  brother  has  gone 
to  the  great  prairie.  His  life  has  passed  as  rapidly  as 
the  course  of  the  sun;  but  it  was  more  brilliant  than 
the  father  of  light  at  noontide.  He  was  the  Panther 
of  his  tribe.  His  foot  was  as  fleet  as  that  of  the  ante 
lope.  His  eye  shone  like  the  fire  which  blazed  from 
his  gun,  and  his  voice  in  war  was  like  the  thunder. 
He  was  brave,  good,  and  useful.  The  Manitou  had 
need  of  such  a  warrior.  He  has  called  him.' 

"  The  silence  was  profound,  and  was  broken  only  by 
the  voices  of  the  women,  who  commenced  singing  a 
kind  of  dirge.  The  melody  was  very  sweet  and  in  el- 
ancholy.  Each  in  turn  sang  of  the  exploits  of  the 
dead  brave,  and,  at  the  end  of  each  strophe,  they  re 
peated  a  kind  of  monotonous  chorus. 

"  When  they  had  terminated  this  song,  one  of  the  men 
arose,  and  sang  also  the  praises  of  the  dead.  He  was 
succeeded  by  others ;  and  all  the  warriors  of  the  tribe, 
in  turn,  paid  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the  defunct. 

"Immediately  after,  the  Great  Eagle  rose.  Then 
wrapping  the  body  in  a  buffalo-skin,  they  deposited  it 


TRIUMPHAL    RETURN. —  FUNERAL.  175 

in  a  bark  coffin,  borne  by  four  young  men ;  after  which 
the  procession  started. 

"  When  they  reached  the  burial-place,  the  coffin  was 
placed  in  the  ground,  its  head  turned  towards  the  cast, 
and  was  covered  with  instruments  of  war  and  hunting. 
An  opening  was  made  in  the  bier,  so  that  the  spirit 
might  communicate  at  pleasure  with  the  mortal  re 
mains  ;  and  the  whole  was  protected  from  the  attacks 
of  beasts  of  prey  by  means  of  large  stones  and  thorny 
bushes,  which  were  in  turn  covered  with  the  earth,  and 
carefully  pressed  down  with  the  feet.  His  horse  was 
then  led  forward,  and  immolated  over  his  grave,  that 
the  Indian  might  present  himself  before  the  Great 
Spirit  in  a  manner  becoming  a  brave  warrior. 

"Amid  the  silence  which  followed  was  heard  the 
voice  of  the  Great  Eagle:  — 

" '  It  is  enough,'  said  he :  c  children  of  the  Aricaras, 
the  Manitou  is  satisfied.' 

"  The  tribe  dispersed  in  silence,  and  every  ono 
returned  to  his  usual  occupations. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


EXCURSIONS. —  A    TRISONEB. 

"  I  HAD  now  been  more  than  two  years  an  iong  the 
Aricaras. 

"  During  the  first  months  we  had  repulsed  several 
attacks  of  the  Sioux;  but  constantly  beaten,  and 
meeting  with  great  losses,  these  warlike  Indians  had 
at  length  quitted  our  territories,  and  we  had  since  en 
joyed  profound  peace. 

"During  all  this  time,  I  lived  quietly,  dividing  my 
time  between  hunting  and  natural  history.  I  had  be 
come  a  singularly  good  marksman,  and  rarely  missed 
jiny  game  which  came  within  reach  of  my  rifle ;  so 
that  I  received  the  name  of  the  Buffalo-killer.  I 
made  solitary  excursions  in  the  neighborhood,  some 
times  remaining  two  or  three  days  absent  from  the 
village. 

"I  was  returning  from  one  of  these  excursions,  re- 
12  177 


178  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

fleeting  upon  my  present  life  among  these  savage  peo 
ple.  As  I  was  thinking  busily  of  my  friends  on  the 
far  side  of  the  ocean,  who  must  have  long  since  given 
me  up  for  altogether  lost  to  them,  I  heard  a  horse  gal 
loping  behind  me." 

"It  was  an  Aricara,  who,  having  rejoined  me,  in 
formed  me  that  there  was  news  in  the  camp  since  I 
had  last  left  it. 

"  Traces  of  traps  had  been  seen  on  the  banks  of  the 
river  which  flowed  before  the  villnge;  and  the  Indians, 
jealous  of  the  exclusive  possession  of  their  territory, 
had  gone  out  to  watch  for  the  marauders  who  came  to 
hunt  on  their  grounds,  which  had  belonged  to  their 
fathers. 

"They  were  not  long  in  finding  a  white  hunter, 
who,  seeing  himself  surrounded,  wished  at  least  to  sell 
his  life  dearly. 

"  They  had  succeeded  in  taking  him  alive ;  but  the 
victory  had  cost  them  the  lives  of  three  of  their  best 
warriors,  who  fell  beneath  his  unerring  aim. 

"  Bound  closely,  he  was  led  to  the  camp ;  and  the  as 
sembled  council  had  decided  that  he  should  be  burned 
at  the  stake. 

"  The  Indian  desired  me  to  hasten  if  I  would  wit 
ness  what  he  called  a,  feast.  The  punishment  was  to 
take  place  that  same  day ;  and  he  thought  that  no  true 


EXCURSIONS.  —  A    PRISONER.  !) 

red-skin  could  be  dispensed  with,  in  assisting  at  si.ch  a 
ceremony. 

"As  to  myself,  I  was  an  Indian  only  in  dress,  and 
manner  of  life ;  and,  having  preserved  the  belief  and 
feeling  of  a  Christian,  my  heart  was  oppressed  at  tho 
recital.  I  consequently  suffered  the  Indian  to  urge 
his  horse  to  its  full  speed,  and  hurry  along. 

"'Yet  another  human  victim!'  I  thought;  'more 
blood!  and  why?  Because  this  unlucky  hunter  has 
set  his  traps  on  this  side  of  the  river  instead  of  on  the 
other.  If  I  had  been  in  the  village  at  the  time  of  the 
expedition,  I  would  have  accompanied  it,  and  might, 
perhaps,  have  prevented  the  bloody  conflict,  which  now 
calls  in  their  minds  for  this  cruel  retaliation.  I  know 
the  law  of  the  prairies,  — '  an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth  /'  and  the  slain  warriors  now  reclaim,  as 
an  expiatory  sacrifice,  the  death  of  him  who  killed 
them  while  defending  his  own  life.' 

"  Thus  reflecting,  and  leaving  my  horse  to  his  own 
pace,  I  at  length  reached  the  village.  I  heard  the  in 
fernal  music  of  the  scalping-dance,  the  vociferations  of 
women  and  children,  the  barking  of  dogs,  and  smelt 
the  smoke  of  the  kindling-wood  at  the  fatal  stake. 

"  My  horse  stopped  by  a  wigwam  which  stood  near 
the  Great  Square,  in  the  middle  of  which  arose  the 
stake,  already  surrounded  with  the  leaping  and  flashing 
flames. 


180  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"  I  turned  my  eye  towards  the  victim.  ...  A  cloud 
passed  before  my  sight,  the  blood  rushed  to  my  tem 
ples.  Great  God!  what  had  I  seen!  Lewis,  Lewis, 
the  friend  whom  I  remembered,  and  whom  I  mourned, 
—  Lewis,  the  friend  and  brother  of  my  prairie-life,  was 
about  to  perish  by  an  atrociously  cruel  death ! 

"Not  a  moment  was  left  me  for  reflection.  Action 
must  be  immediate.  Seizing  my  tomahawk,  I  leaped 
from  my  horse,  and  rushed  to  the  stake,  hurling  aside 
and  overturning  every  thing  that  came  in  my  way. 
Pushing  aside  the  kindling  brush,  with  a  stroke  of  my 
knife  I  cut  the  cords  which  bound  Lewis,  and  gave 
him  a  hatchet,  which  I  snatched  from  the  ground. 
Then,  turning  to  the  stupefied  crowd,  I  cried,  — 

"'Wretches!  this  is  my  brother.  If  you  wish  for 
nis  life,  you  must  first  take  mine.' 

"  My  movement  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that 
no  one  had  opposed  it;  and  we  were  ready  for  a 
desperate  defence,  before  a  single  warrior  could  ad 
vance. 

"The  Aricaras  knew  that  I  was  afraid  of  no  danger. 
Lewis  had  already  given  them  sufficient  proof  of  his 
intrepid  bravery.  They  had,  therefore,  before  them 
two  adversaries,  ready  to  die,  but  not  unavenged. 

"  For  a  moment,  they  remained  silent,  in  hesitation ; 
then,  seizing  their  weapons,  they  rushed  upon  us,  utte^ 
ing  wild  cries  of  rage. 


EXCURSIONS. — A    PRISONER.  181 

"I  pressed  Lewis  by  the  hand,  and  then  we  pre 
pared  for  the  fight. 

"At  this  moment  the  Great  Eagle  advanced,  and, 
stretching  out  his  tomahawk,  signified  his  wish  to 
speak. 

"  Silence  was  at  once  obtained. 

"Approaching  a  few  steps,  and  addressing  me,  he 
said,  — 

"'Why  does  my  young  pale  brother  wish  to  oppose 
the  just  vengeance  of  his  brethren?  Does  he  not 
know  that  the  white  hunter  has  shed  the  blood  of  the 
Aricaras,  and  that  three  of  our  most  illustrious  war 
riors  have  gone  to  join  our  fathers,  in  the  land  of  the 
Great  Spirit?  Let  him  cease,  then,  to  oppose  our  jus 
tice,  or  our  anger  will  fall  upon  him  also.' 

" '  Let  the  powerful  chief  who  is  before  me  permit 
me  to  speak,'  I  replied  ;  c  and  let  him  promise  to  hear 
me  to  the  end.  He  will  see  that  his  brother  is  still 
worthy  of  his  friendship  and  that  of  the  men  of  his 
tribe.' 

"The  Great  Eagle  made  the  promise  which  I  re 
quired,  and  I  commenced. 

"I  first  recalled  my  entrance  into  the  tribe,  the  part 
which  I  had  taken  in  their  exploits,  the  honors  which 
\hey  had  showered  upon  me  in  recompense  for  my  ser 
vices,  and  the  care  which  I  had  bestowed  upon  their 
Cornell  and  children.  Then,  pleading  the  cause  of 


182  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

Lewis,  I  narrated  how  he  had  received  me  when  I  was 
about  to  die  of  hunger  and  misery,  the  days  in  the 
prairie  and  the  forest  which  we  had  spent  together, 
the  dangers  we  had  shared,  and  our  struggle  with  the 
Blackfeet  (who  are  enemies  of  the  Aricaras  also)  ;  a 
struggle  in  which  I  had  believed  Lewis  to  have  lost 
his  life,  and  which  had  been  the  cause  of  my  arrival  in 
the  tribe. 

" '  You  reproach  him,'  I  continued,  'with  having  shed 
the  blood  of  your  brothers.  Did  he  come  to  shed 
your  blood,  or  to  burn  your  wigwams  ?  Did  he  try  to 
carry  off  your  women  and  your  children?  Did  ho 
steal  your  horses?  No.  lie  defended  himself;  and, 
when  you  attacked  him,  he  was  peaceably  pursuing  his 
occupation.  Are  not  the  prairies  large  enough  for  us 
all  to  live  in  ?  Has  not  the  Great  Spirit  created  means 
enougli  for  nil  men  to  have  sufficient  without  trouble  ? 
Thousands  of  buffaloes  eat  the  grass  of  the  plains,  elks 
and  antelopes  abound  in  immense  herds,  beavers  in 
every  stream,  and  pigeons  obscure  the  heavens  with 
their  numbers;  yet  you  refuse  a  man  the  right  to 
take  his  share  of  the  benefits  provided  for  all  by  the 
great  Creator.  Why  do  you  not  wish  to  possess  for 
yourselves  alone  the  driving  wind  and  the  swiftly 
flowing  waters,  the  lightnings  which  divide  the  hea 
vens,  and  the  storm  which  rolls  to  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains  ?  Fear,  lest  the  Great  Mauitou  punish  yoi  *; 


EXCURSIONS.  —  A   PRISONER.  183 

cruelty,  and  withdraw  the  protection  which  you  have 
enjoyed  for  two  years ! ' 

"'My  brother  knows,'  said  the  Great  Eagle,  'blood 
requires  blood.' 

« '  Blood  that  is  shed  can  be  bought  back,'  I  replied. 
4  The  hunter  of  the  prairies  is  rich ;  he  has  arms  and 
powder  and  furs;  he  will  load  with  presents  the  great 
chiefs  and  the  widows  of  the  warriors.' 

"  I  saw  signs  of  hesitation  in  the  faces  of  the  In 
dians.  They  looked  at  one  another,  and  consulted  in 
a  low  voice. 

"  The  women,  who  approached,  had  forgotten  their 
animosity.  But  every  thing  was  yet  at  stake,  and  a 
word  might  lose  us  (for  we  could  not  hope  to  come 
alive  out  of  such  an  unequal  combat),  when  the  Great 
Eagle  placed  his  tomahawk  on  the  ground,  and  said, 
4  If  the  chiefs  and  warriors  consent,  I  agree  to  the  con 
ditions  of  my  brother.  The  pale-face  shall  be  saved.' 
Two  Indians  at  once  stepped  forward  from  the  circle. 
They  were  the  Piercing  Eye  and  the  Fox. 

"I  had  cured  the  wife  of  the  first  of  a  fever  which 
was  wasting  her  life,  and  the  child  of  the  other  from 
the  eifects  of  poison. 

"'Our  white  brother  has  spoken  well,'  said  one;  'let 
his  proposition  be  accepted.'  The  other  said  the  same; 
and  all  the  rest  very  soon  expressed  a  similar  opinion. 
There  was  a  little  murmuring,  but  the  danger  was 


184 


THE    PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


over;  and  I  thanked  God  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart 
for  the  courage  and  the  eloquence  which  lie  had  given 
me  at  this  supreme  moment. 

"The  Great  Eagle  and  all  the  braves  came  to  press 
our  hands ;  arid  it  was  agreed,  that,  in  a  few  days, 
Lewis.  I,  and  some  twenty  warriors,  should  go  to  one 
of  the  caches  of  Lewis,  which  contained  the  presents 
lie  was  to  make  in  the  tribe." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HISTORY   OF   LEWIS. —  THE   FIRE.  —  HEROIC   ACT. 

"  I  LED  my  friend  into  my  hut,  and  there  we  gave 
expression  to  our  mutual  friendship,  which  had  in  the 
last  lumi'jyif  possible,  become  still  closer  than  it  was 
before. 

u  Lewis  first  wished  to  know  by  what  series  of  events 
I  found  myself  so  well  installed  among  the  Aricaras. 
I  hastened  to  satisfy  him,  and  recounted  in  detail  my 
singular  history. 

"  After  this  was  terminated,  I  insisted  upon  knowing 
his  also;  and  he  proceeded  to  recount  it  to  me  in  the 
following  terms:  — 

"'Y"ou  know,  my  dear  William,  that,  at  the  very 
moment  the  Blackfeet  surrounded  our  canoe,  I  had  de 
cided  to  push  off  into  the  current;  but  several  Indians 
leaped  into  the  boat.  One  of  them  threw  himself  to 
wards  me,  with  his  tomahawk  raised;  but  my  hatchet 

185 


180 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


was  in  my  hand,  and,  to  give  more  strength  to  my  blow 
I  leaned  back.     Just  then  my  foot  slipped,  and  I  lost 
my  balance.     As  the  Indian's  arm  was  lifted  to  bury 
his  hatchet  in  my  brain,  I  received  an  arrow  in   my 
right  shoulder,  and  fell  into  the  water.     I  heard  your 
shout   as   you   came   to   my   assistance   while   I    was 
sinking  in  the  river.     I  got  entangled  in  the  grass  at 
the  bottom  of  the  stream,  and  felt  myself  suffocating 
in  it.    Indeed,  it  was  by  an  almost  incredible  effort  that 
I  succeeded  in  reaching  the  surface.     My  wound  had 
disabled  one  hand,  so  that  I  was  able  to  swim  only  with 
difficulty.     I  tried  to  rejoin  you  to  save  you,  or  share 
your  fate ;  but  the  stream  was  rapid,  and  carried  me  so 
far,  that,  when  I  reached  the  shore  and  returned  to  the 
place  of  the.fight,  all  was  over.     I  was  without  weap 
ons,  and  my  shoulder  pained  me  terribly;  though  the 
wound    was    not    dangerous,    and   healed    rapidly.     I 
passed  the  night  in  a  tree,  and  the  next  day  I  followed 
the  tracks  of  your  captors.     Noticing  the  footprints 
of  two  Indians,  I  saw  that  they  were  deeper  impressed 
than  the  others ;  whence  I  concluded  that  they  were 
carrying  a  load.     You   might  not  be  dead,  then,  but 
were,  perhaps,  severely  wounded.     This  afflicted  my 
heart.     Farther  on  I  found  your  own  footprints,  light 
and  regular;  and  my  mind  was  consequently  relieved. 
Reaching  the  neighborhood  of  the  camp  just  after  you, 
I  was  seeking  an  entrance,  when  I  was  obliged  to  escape 


HISTORY   OF  LEWIS,   ETC.  187 

quickly.    An  Indian  whom  I  did  not  recognize,  but  who, 
you  have  informed  me,  was  the  Jaguar  saved  by  UP 
from  the  bear,  was  examining  the  environs.     When  1 
was  able  to  return  unseen,  I  found  the  tribe  in  a  state 
of  excitement,  and  guessed  that  something  extraordi 
nary  had  happened.      I  awaited,  and  two  days  after 
I  found  your  tracks  near  a  cotton-grove,  close  to  the 
river;  for  I  was  only  al)le  to  search  for  them  when  the 
Indians  were  not  visible.     These  tracks  were  crossed  in 
every  direction,  and  mingled  with  those  of  the  Indians. 
These  were  the  indications  of  your  flight.     But  how 
should  I  rejoin  you?  '  Did  you  swim  across  the  river? 
or   did    you   follow   the  current?     After   spending   a 
whole  week  examining  bushes,  trees,  leavesfthe  ground, 
there  appeared  no  trace.     With  a  broken  heart,  I  gave 
up  the  search,  called  upon  Heaven  to  protect  you,  and 
sadly  took  my  way  to  the  cache  where  we  had  been  to- 
Aether.     I  took  thence  all  that  I  needed  to  re-commence 

& 

my  business  as  a  trapper ;  and  since  that  time  I  have 
traversed  prairie  and  wood,  often  thinking  of  you, 
whose  friendship  had  been  so  precious  to  me,  and 
whose  devotion  had  been  so  often  manifested. 

'"•Such,  my  dear  William,  is  the  recital  of  my  life 
since  we  separated;  and  I  sincerely  trust  that  we  shall 
not  be  parted  again.' 

"1  pressed  my  friend's  hand  affectionately,  and,  after 
cur  curiosity  was  thus  satisfied,  we  appeased  the  nut- 


188 


THE    PRAIRIE   CRUSOE!. 


ural  hunger,  which  we  had  a  while  forgotten,  and  then 
sought  the  repose  which  we  both  needed  after  so  fierce 
an  excitement. 

"The  next  clay  we  made  our  preparations  to  set  out 
for  the  cache  of  Lewis.  Twenty  Aricaras  were  to  ac 
company  us.  I  obtained  permission  from  the  Great 
Eagle  that  they  should  be  commanded  by  the  Fox  and 
the  Piercing  Eye ;  for  I  was  not  sorry  to  have  with  me 
two  influential  and  intrepid  warriors  who  had  proved 
their  gratitude  to  me  by  interfering  the  first  to  save 
Lewis  from  the  stake.  We  had  been  two  days  on  the 
way,  when  our  horses  showed  visible  signs  of  trepida 
tion  and  disquietude.  The  wind  was  violent,  and  the 
air  became  filled  with  a  dark  and  penetrating  vapor, 
which  affected  our  eyes. 

"The  Fox  advanced  quickly  to  a  small  eminence, 
looked  in  the  direction  of  the  wind,  and  returned  a.s 
hastily  as  he  could. 

"4  The  prairie  is  on  fire!'  was  all  that  he  said. 
"  We  urged  our  horses   to  a  gallop  at  this  critical 
announcement. 

"On  our  left,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  was  a  line  of 
sharp,  impassable  rocks,  extending  to  one  of  the  tribu 
tary  streams  of  the  Missouri. 

"On  our  right  was  the  immense  plain,  over  which 
the  flames  spread  almost  as  rapidly  as  the  wind  which 
swept  them  along.  Behind  us,  perhaps,  the  flames  also 


HISTORY   OF   LEWIS,   ETC.  189 

would  present  their  impenetrable  barrier.  There  was 
but  one  chance,  —  to  follow  the  line  of  the  rocks  to 
the  river  at  our  utmost  speed. 

"  The  smoke  soon  enveloped  us  on  every  side.  The 
roar  of  the  advancing  flames  was  joined  with  the  occa 
sional  crash  of  falling  trees  and  crackling  timber.  The 
heated  sap  forced  its  way  through  the  wood,  with 
explosions  like  shells  in  battle. 

"  Hundreds  of  animals,  of  every  species,  fled  on  all 
sides,  pushing  and  crowding  on  each  other, — the  ante 
lope  by  the  side  of  the  jaguar,  the  buffalo  and  the  wolf, 
prairie-dogs  and  squirrels,  —  all  forgetful  of  their  de 
structive  instincts  and  enmities  in  the  midst  of  their 
wild  race  for  life. 

"  In  front  of  the  curtain  of  fire,  preceding  it  but  a 
few  yards,  was  an  immense  flock  of  birds  of  prey,  swift 
in  flight,  and  pouncing  every  few  minutes  upon  some 
luckless  reptile  or  animal. 

"  It  was  a  fearful  sijjrht.     Our  horses  almost  seemed 

O 

to  annihilate  space.  Bent  over  their  necks,  we  could 
scarcely  breathe  in  the  burning  atmosphere ;  yet,  not 
withstanding  the  rapidity  of  our  course,  we  saw  the 
flame  approaching  closer  and  closer  to  lap  us  in  its 
mortal  embrace. 

"Suddenly  the  horse  of  the  Fox  reaied,  uttered  a 
cry  of  terror,  and  fell,  burying  his  rider  beneath  hia 
fallen  body. 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


"His  hoof  had  trodden  upon  a  large  serpent;  and 
the  furious  reptile,  neglectful  of  his  own  danger,  had 
fastened  on  to  the  leg  of  the  animal,  and  was  biting 
him  cruelly. 

"  Lewis  saw  the  peril  which  threatened  our  compan 
ion.  and  by  a  powerful  effort  stopped  his  own  horse. 
'Fly,'  said  he,  'I  will  save  him!' 

"He  wheeled  his  horse  towards  the  Indian;  but  the 
animal  refused  to  advance.  At  this  moment,  our  brave 
friend  drove  the  blade  of  his  knife  into  it;  and  the 
poor  beast,  overcome  with  pain,  sprang  towards  the 
spot  where  the  flames  had  almost  seized  the  Fox,  who 
was  in  vain  struggling  to  free  himself  from  his  horse. 
With  a  desperate  effort,  Lewis  drew  him  from  the  sad 
dle,  and,  lifting  him  upon  his  own  horse,  turned,  and 
gave  the  horse  rein. 

"  The  wind  was  not  swifter  than  the  affrighted  ani 
mal,  which  passed  us  like  an  arrow;  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  we  saw  them  disappear  from  the  top  of  the  rocks* 
into  the  water.  We  also  soon  reached  the  rocks.  It 
was  time  that  we  did  so  ;  for  the  fire  almost  surrounded 


is. 


"We  were  twenty-five  feet  above  the  river;  but  we 
dared  not  hesitate.  Even  at  the  risk  of  death,  we  must 
try  to  preserve  our  lives.  In  we  went,  and  in  a  few 
moments  climbed  the  opposite  bank  in  safety. 

In  front  of  us,  a  curtain  of  smoke  and  flame  reached 


HISTORY   OF   LEWIS,    ETC.  191 

1,0  the  limits  of  the  horizon.  It  was,  however,  power 
less  against  us,  because  of  the  protecting  waters.  We 
nounted,  and  found  all  of  our  party  safe.  Five  noble 
horses,  however,  were  dead,  either  in  striking  the  water, 
or  from  the  apoplexy  induced  by  immersion  into  the 
cold  stream  after  so  long  and  rapid  a  course. 

"  We  were  all  seated  in  silence,  when  the  Fox,  rising, 
approached  Lewis,  and  held  out  his  hand  with  a  perfect 
air  of  majesty. 

" 4  The  great  hunter  of  the  prairies  has  saved  the  lift- 
of  a  chief  of  the  Aricaras,'  said  he.  'Let  him  be  my 
brother,  and  rest  his  head  in  peace  beneath  my  wig 
wam.' 

"  Lewis  rose,  and  replied  with  a  vigorous  shake  of 
the  hand  offered  by  the  Fox. 

" '  May  it  be  as  my  brother  wishes!'  said  he.  '  Heaven, 
earth,  water,  and  fire  will  be  powerless  to  oppose  when 
my  brother  needs  the  assistance  of  my  arm.' 

"  Then  these  two  generous  men  embraced,  exchanged 
their  calumet,  and  our  circle  became  once  mere  silent 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    CANADIAN    TRADERS. SEPARATION. 

"AFTER  resting  ourselves,  and  giving  our  horses  a 
chance  to  recruit  their  strength,  we  ascended  the  river, 
and,  crossing  farther  up,  we  reached  Lewis's  cache 
without  difficulty. 

"  He  emptied  it  entirely,  offered  a  magnificent  rifle  to 
his  new  friend,  hatchets  and  knives  to  the  other  Indians; 
and,  putting  the  rest  of  his  merchandise  on  the  horses, 
he  gave  the  signal  for  departure,  and  we  set  out  on  our 
return. 

"We  were  obliged  to  make  a  long  circuit  to  avoid 
the  fire,  which  must  have  spread  to  a  great  distance ; 
and  directed  our  course  eastward. 

"  We  crossed  a-plain,  however,  which  had  been  swept 
by  the  flames  The  ground  was  still  warm.  Half- 
roasted  animals,  which  the  vultures  were  rapidly  de 
vouring,  lay  here  and  there.  Enormous  trees,  reduced 

13  193 


104  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

to  charcoal,  encumbered  our  way;  and  yet  vegetation 
is  so  powerful  there,  that  *e  could  almost  already  dis 
tinguish  the  new  grass  beo-:nr>mg  to  sprout  through  the 
ashes. 

"A  rain-storm,  or  even  heavy  de»vs,  with  a  week  of 
mild  temperature  such  as  we  then  enjoyed,  and  a  travel 
ler  would  not  suspect  that  a  terrible  conflagration  had 
swept  the  earth,  and  overspread  it,  some  seven  days 
earlier,  with  ruin. 

"Our  arrival  in  camp  was  a  signal  for  enjoyment. 
The  Fox  had  preceded  us,  and  Lewis  was  received  as 
the  brother  of  a  great  chief  deserved  to  be.  The  pres 
ents  which  he  made  to  each  one  secured  for  him  the 
sympathies  of  the  whole  tribe. 

"  I  had  induced  Lewis  to  promise  to  accompany  me, 
when  we  should  leave  the  Aricaras,  to  seek  some  white 
settlement.  But  we  could  not  leave  our  new  friuidr 
so  quickly.  It  was  necessary  to  await  the  arrival  or 
the  fur-merchants ;  and  it  was  but  a  short  time  since 
the  hatchet  had  been  buried  between  the  whites  and  the 
tribes  bordering  on  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi. 

"We  re-commenced  our  hunting  expeditions,  not 
only  for  our  food,  but  to  collect  a  quantity  of  skins  and 
furs  with  which  to  pay  our  passage  on  some  vessel; 
and,  during  the  months  which  we  passed  with  the  In 
dians,  we  succeeded  in  obtaining  quite  a  large  propor 
tion  of  valuable  peltry. 


THE  CANADIAN  TRADERS.          195 

u  At  last  the  day  arrived  which  I  had  so  long  and  s« 
impatiently  awaited. 

"  I  saw  the  Canadian  traders  coining  down  the  river 
on  long  barges  which  they  used  as  stores.  They  came 
to  buy  horses  and  furs  in  exchange  for  arms,  powder, 
stuffs,  and  a  crowd  of  gew-gaws  which  are  always  so 
enticing  for  the  Indians. 

"  I  proposed  to  pay  our  passage  in  furs,  which  they 
willingly  accepted.  To  my  inquiry  where  they  were 
going,  they  told  me  that  their  intention  was  to  go  to 
St.  Louis,  which  is  the  first  American  station  for  the 
fur-traders. 

"  St.  Louis  being  situated  on  the  right  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  a  short  distance  below  its  confluence  with  the 
Missouri,  this  river  had  to  be  followed  to  reach  our 
destination. 

"  I  went  immediately  to  announce  my  determination 
to  the  Great  Eagle,  pointing  out  the  motives  which 
obliged  Lewis  and  myself  to  leave  the  tribe  which  had 
afforded  us  such  a  generous  and  friendly  hospitality.  I 
expressed  in  warm  terms  my  deep  regret,  but  ended  by 
saying  that  my  decision  was  irrevocable. 

"After  hearing  me  in  silence,  the  Great  Eagle,  in 
spite  of  his  habitual  reserve,  expressed  very  warmly  his 
regret  at  being  deprived  of  such  friends  as  we  were, 
more  especially  of  me,  whom  he  regarded  as  his 
brother.  At  the  same  time,  he  had  too  much  delicacy 


19b  THE   PRAIRIE    CRUSOE. 

to  try  to  prevent  me,  understanding  perfectly,  he  said, 
my  natural  desire  to  revisit  the  land  of  my -fathers. 

"  A  great  council  was  called  to  announce  to  the  war 
riors  of  the  tribe  our  approaching  departure.  The  news 
was  received  with  silence  and  regret ;  but  no  objection 
was  raised. 

"  After  a  pause,  an  old  man  arose,  and,  advancing  to 
the  middle  of  the  circle,  said  that  4  the  Manitou  had 
sent  a  warrior  and  a  sage  among  them,  but  that  now  he 
needed  them  for  his  other  children,  and  that  his  will 
must  be  accomplished.' 

"  He  then  sat  down,  and  we  re-commenced  to  smoke. 
In  a  few  minutes,  the  same  old  man  shook  the  ashes  out 
of  his  pipe,  wrapped  himself  up  with  solemn  majesty 
in  his  blanket,  and  left  the  wigwam.  Each  Indian  did 
the  same,  and  Lewis  and  I  were  soon  alone. 

"  Rising  also,  I  returned  to  my  own  wigwam,  which 
was  soon  filled  with  furs,  feathers,  bows,  arrows,  lances, 
&c.,  which  the  good  Aricaras  offered  me  in  remem 
brance.  This  new  proof  of  sympathy  affected  me 
deeply. 

"On  the  day  of  our  departure,  I  was  still  more  deeply 
impressed  when  the  whole  tribe,  without  arms,  and 
grief  written  on  every  countenance,  came  to  accompany 
us  to  the  river  bank. 

"  They  ranged  themselves  in  a  circle,  and  the  Great 
Eagle  spoke  in  their  richly  figurative  style. 


THE   CANADIAN   TRADERS.  197 

"He  commenced  by  talking  of  the  great  fame  of  his 
nation,  of  their  success  in  war  and  in  hunting,  then,  by 
a  sudden  transition,  he  alluded  to  me.  He  said  that  I 
had  not  come  to  carry  off  their  women,  nor  the  game 
of  their  prairies ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  I  had  been 
sent  by  the  Great  Spirit  for  the  glory  and  the  happiness 
of  his  people ;  that  I  left  them  to  return  to  those  who 
had  watched  over  my  early  years;  that  I  would  say  to 
all  pale  faces  how  noble  and  brave  were  the  Aricaras, 
grateful  and  true  to  their  friends,  and  terrible  to  their 
enemies;  that,  if  the  will  of  the  Great  Manitou  shouM 
bring  me  back,  I  should  be  received  as  a  brother.  He 
associated  Lewis  in  all  the-  •<•  I.i.i.l  remarks,  and  assured 
him  of  his  kind  remembrance. 

;cThe  ceremony  of  bidding  farewell  was  imposing, 
^ach  warrior  came  to  press  our  hands  and  those  of  the 
traders. 

"When,  however,  the  Fox  parted  from  Lewis,  he 
-  showed  more  evidences  of  real  emotion  than  I  had  ever 
previously  seen  betrayed  by  any  Indian.  The  corner 
of  his  eyes,  and  his  under  lip,  quivered  with  the 
enforced  control  which  he  placed  upon  himself.  He 
endeavored  to  speak ;  but  he  felt  that  his  voice  would 
show  how  deeply  he  was  troubled.  He,  therefore,  took 
Lewis's  right  hand,  and  placed  it  upon  the  crown  of  his 
head;  thus  intimating  that  he  considered  himself  bound 
to  the  trapper  for  life,  after  which  he  hurried  away,  and 
retired  into  his  wisjwam. 


108  TniC   PRATRIE  CRUSOE. 

"  Lewis  afterwards  told  me  that  he  himself  was  as 
much  surprised  as  I  had  been  at  this  unusual  display 
of  feeling,  and  could  scarcely  account  for  it  —  'unless, 
indeed,  the  Aricara  had  white  blood  in  his  veins.'  This 
indeed  was  a  supposition  which  had  previously  struck 
me,  although  never  so  forcibly.  On  subsequent  inquiry, 
I  found  that  this  idea  was  correct.  His  father  had 
married  a  white  squaw  who  had  been  taken  captive  by 
the  Sioux  when  quite  a  child.  The  Sioux  village  in 
which  she  had  grown  up  to  be  a  marriageable  maiden 
having  been  sacked  and  destroyed  by  a  party  of  Ari 
caras  under  the  leadership  of  Hawk  Eye,  the  father  of 
the  Fox,  she  was  saved  and  carried  off  by  him.  The 
result  was,  that  she  'entered  his  wigwam;'  this  being  the 
Indian  phrase  to  signify  that  she  afterwards  became  his 
wife.  This,  however,  was  learnt  by  me  on  my  rer.t 
visit  to  the  tribe. 

"  When  we  embarked  in  the  boats,  I,  being  the  last 
to  leave  the  shore,  waved  my  shield  to  the  Aricaras  in 
token  of 'adieu;'  and  they  responded  with  their  peculiar 
shout. 

"Then  the  boats  were  pushed  from  the  shore.  The 
current  bore  us  rapidly  away,  and  the  village  and  its 
inhabitants  soon  receded  from  sight.  I  sat  down,  ami 
hid  my  face  in  my  1  -jids;  for  I  was  sad  at  heart,  an-1 
could  not  speak. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

ARRIVAL    AT    ST.   LOUIS.  — THE    BULWER    FAMILY 

"THE  water  was  high,  and  the  canoes  flew  along  tha 
stream  like  a  bird;  so  that,  notwithstanding  the  nu 
merous  windings  of  the  river,  we  made  the  trip  in  less 
than  half  the  time  which  would  have  been  required  by 
land.  The  journey  was  marred  by  no  accident  or  un 
toward  event. 

"During  the  passage,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  ? 
Mr.  Bulwer,  the  director  of  a  great  fur-trading  com 
pany  at  St.  Louis.  To  him  I  had  related  my  adven 
tures,  and  he  questioned  me  as  to  my  plans  for  the 
future.  I  replied,  that  my  intention  was  to  return  to 
my  country  as  soon  as  a  favorable  opportunity  should 
offer.  But  he  immediately  answered  that  I  \vas  wrong. 

"'For,'  said  he,  'what  will  you  do  in  Germany? 
You  have  no  trade,  and  at  twenty  years  of  age  you  will 
become  a  charge  to  the  baron.  You  hsivo  no  taste  foi 

199 


-00  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

a  military  career,  nor  for  the  s(k*.  What  then  will  you 
do?  You  will  one  day  regret  your  lost  time.  Your 
vocation  calls  you  to  an  adventurous  life.  Believe  me: 
follow  it.  You  have  lived  three  years  with  the  Ari- 
oaras.  You  know  not  only  their  language,  but  you 
have  learned  enough  of  that  of  the  Sioux  and  Paw 
nees  to  be  able  to  enter  into  commerce  with  them. 
You  are  accustomed  to  the  life  and  privations  of  the 
redskins,  which  gives  you  a  great  advantage  over 
other  traders,  even  over  the  Canadians.  You  will  al 
ways  be  welcome  in  the  tribe  which  so  long  counted 
you  as  one  of  its  best  warriors;  and  the  advantage  to 
be  derived  from  that  will  be  very  great  for  your  fur- 
trade.  Believe  my  experience :  work.  Never  expect 
from  others  the  living  which  you  can  procure  for  your 
self.  I  offer  you  a  post  in  my  company.  There  is  no 
necessity  for  being  in  a  hurry  to  give  me  an  answer. 
Think  it  over.  Reflect  seriously  upon  the  advice  which 
I  have  volunteered  to  you,  and  if,  in  one  week  from 
this  time,  your  intention  should  remain  settled  to  re 
turn  to  Germany,  I  will  do  every  thing  in  my  power  to 
find  a  chance  for  you  to  get  a  passage  home.' 

"With  these  words  Mr.  Bulwer  left  me;  and  I  saw 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  carry  the  conversation  any 
further  at  this  time.  Nor,  indeed,  did  he  once  again 
allude  to  it  during  the  remainder  of  our  journey  to  S>* 
Louis. 


ARRIVAL   AT   FIT.   LOUTS. 


201 


;'  <lis  advice  caused  me  much  serious  reflection.  It 
Agreed  exactly  with  all  that  I  had  been  taught  from 
my  earliest  years.  The  good  old  soldier,  to  whom,  in 
all  probability,  I  owed  my  existence,  who  had  be 
stowed  upon  me  the  care  and  solicitude  the  most  ten 
der  parent  may  lavish  upon  his  child,  until  nis  last 
hour,  had  always  exhorted  me  to  work  for  myself,  ns 
every  honest  man  should  do.  In  later  years,  the  baron 
had  given  me  the  same  advice ;  and  now,  in  a  strange 
land,  far  from  my  protectors,  I  was  happy  enough  to 
meet  with  a  man  of  standing  in  the  world,  who  might 
eecm  as  ?.f  sent  to  me  by  God  to  keep  my  feet  from 
swerving  from  the  straight  path  of  duty,  and  assist  me 
in  carving  out  my  own  way  by  straightforward  toil 
and  honest  courage. 

"My  resolution  was,  accordingly,  soon  taken.  I 
went  to  him  on  the  following  day  to  announce  that 
I  accepted  his  offer. 

"  Pressing  my  hand  warmly,  he  expressed  his  own 
satisfaction,  as  well  as  praised  my  resolution,  and  in 
stalled  me,  on  my  arrival  at  St.  Louis,  at  once  in  his 
house.  Here  I  was  treated,  both  by  himself  and  his 
excellent  wife,  more  as  a  near  relative  than  as  a  stran 
ger.  This  was,  in  all  probability,  due  to  my  youth , 
but,  whether  so  or  not,  I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  never 
forfeited  their  kindness  by  ingratitude  or  self-will. 
'•My  first  necessity  was,  of  course,  in  dressing  my- 


202  THE    PRAIRIE    CRUSOE. 

self  like  the  rest  of  those  around  me ;  for  my  clothing, 
which  was  a  mixture  of  the  Indian  and  trapper  style 
of  dress,  was  scarcely  fitted  for  one  who  stood  in  a 
city,  which,  although  then  upon  the  outskirts  of  civili 
sation,  possessed  a  large  and  wealthy  population.  In 
this  Mr.  Bulwer  very  kindly  assisted  me.  I  had  pro 
posed  turning  a  portion  of  my  furs  at  once  into  money, 
lie,  however,  would  not  hear  of  this,  but  advised  ir.e 
to  wait  until  some  of  the  Southern  dealers  in  skins 
should  visit  the  place.  To  enable  me  to  do  this,  he 
advanced  me  a  sum  more  than  sufficient  to  serve  my 
purposes;  and,  in  a  few  days,  I  was  gratified  by  the 
warm  and  motherly  compliments  which  Mrs.  Bulwer 
bestowed  upon  the  change  in  my  personal  appearance. 

"However,  we  are  never  altogether  contented:  and 
I  began  to  think  much  of  Lewis. 

"We  had  shared  so  much  of  good  and  bad  fortune 
together,  that  it  caused  me  much  sorrow  to  reflect 
upon  our  possible  separation.  It  appeared  to  me  al 
most  impossible  that  I  could  endure  to  be  placed  in  a 
situation  entirely  separated  from  the  ways  and  means 
of  life  of  my  old  friend.  Consequently,  one  day  I 
[ducked  up  sufficient  courage  to  request  Mr.  Bulwer  to 
be  good  enough  to  employ  my  friend  also,  if  he  had 
any  opportunity  at  his  disposal  of  ooing  so, 

"The  worthy  merchant,  who  had  from  the  very  first 
seen  the  excellent  qualities  of  the  honest  trapp°v  iad 


ARRIVAL   AT  ST.    LOUTS. 


judged  correctly  how  worthy  he  was  of  esteem  and 
confidence,  told  me  that  he  had  already  considered  the 
possibility  of  such  a  request  upon  my  part,  and  that 
lie  had  (Decided  upon  gratifying  it;  not  merely  upon 
the  score  of  pleasing  me,  but  because  he  was  certain 
that,  in  many  respects,  Lewis  would  be  invaluable  to 
him. 

"Accordingly,  but  a  few  days  had  passed  when  he  sent 
for  Lewis,  and,  telling  him  that  the  account  which  I 
had  given  of  my  adventures  in  his  company  had  im 
pressed  himself  with  a  high  opinion  of  his  ability  for  a 
life  on  the  frontier,  offered  him  a  post  as  manager  on 
the  Upper  Mississippi,  which  then  chanced  to  be  va 
cant. 

"This  proposition  was  accepted  with  very  great 
pleasure  by  my  friend.  The  post  had  a  double  advan 
tage  in  his  eyes.  It  was  not  too  far  from  St.  Louis  for 
freyjent  intercourse  with  me,  while,  being  on  the  limits 
ol  the  Indian  lands,  and  close  to  the  prairies,  it  would 
allow  him  occasionally  to  gratify  his  love  of  hunting. 

"It  was  some  two  months  after  my  installation  in 
Mr.  Bulwer's  family,  that  a  vessel  arrived  at  St.  Louis 
from  New  Orleans,  to  purchase  furs.  My  patron  in 
troduced  me  to  the  captain,  and  I  profited  by  this  op 
portunity  to  sell  very  advantageously  those  which  the 
Indians  had  given  me  ;  in  which  business  I  was  not 
slightly  indebted  to  the  tact  and  knowledge  of  Mr 
Bulwer. 


204  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"As  the  captain  proposed  sailing  from  New  Orleans 
to  New  York,  I  intrusted  him  with  letters  for  the 
baron  and  Stanislas.  In  these,  I  announced  my  deter 
mination  not  to  think  of  returning  to  Europe  until  my 
fortune  should  be  ample  enough  to  secure  future  com 
fort.  I  renewed  the  expressions  of  my  sentiments  of 
filial  gratitude  to  the  baron,  and  love  for  Stanislas.  To 
the  latter,  I  sent  one  of  the  splendid  horses  which  the 
Aricaras  had  given  me,  as  well  as  the  complete  equip 
ment  of  a  redskin.  Nor  did  I  forget  the  little  Bertha, 
of  whom  I  then  thought  merely  as  a  child.  To  her,  i 
addressed  a  packing-case,  filled  with  some  of  my  finest 
furs,  feathers,  shells,  and  other  things,  which  were 
chiefly  valuable  as  rare  curiosities,  at  that  period,  in 
Germany. 

"  I  was  now  completely  ready  to  commence  the  life 
to  which  Mr.  Bulwer  had  recommended  me  to  devote 
myself.  However,  as  he  informed  me,  it  was  not 
the  season  in  which  a  successful  journey  could  be 
made.  I  therefore  occupied  myself  almost  entirely 
in  reading  and  study." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

NEWS    FEOM    GERMANY. VISIT     TO     THJ5     UUCARA8.— 

A   BUFFALO-HUNT. 

"  IT  was  some  seven  or  eight  months  after,  that  I  had 
the  happiness  of  receiving  letters  from  the  place  which 
I  still  regarded  as  my  home.  In  the  one  which  had 
been  written  by  the  baron,  he  expressed  his  satisfac 
tion  at  my  resolution,  and  warmly  praised  my  courage, 
and  determination  to  render  myself  independent.  *  It 
is,'  he  wrote,  '  the  only  way  to  deserve,  and  therefore 
to  insure,  success  in  life.  Nor  will  you  fail,  if  you 
walk  uprightly,  and  put  your  entire  trust  in  that  Provi 
dence  which  has  hitherto  preserved  you  through  so 
many  dangers  and  perils.'  As  for  Stanislas,  he  also 
praised  my  determination,  envying  my  happiness  in 
seeing  so  many  curious  things.  He  thanked  rne  for 
my  presents,  as  did  also  Bertha,  he  begged  to  as- 
lure  rae ;  concluding  by  assuring  me  that  the  horse  I 


£03  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

had  sent-  him  had  come  to  hand  in  perfect  safety,  and 
was  now  a  subject  of  admiration  for  the  whole  regi 
ment  in  which  he  bore  a  commission.  Indeed,  he  told 
me  that  the  son  of  the  Elector  of  Hesse-Darmstadt 
had  offered  him  fifteen  hundred  florins  for  it,  '  which, 
of  course,  my  dear  William,  I  declined  taking.' 

"About  three  months  later,  for  the  first  time,  I  re 
visited  the  Aricaras. 

"  I  must  honestly  say,  thrat  it  was  not  without  deep 
emotion  that  I  again  entered  the  village  of  the  tribe 
in  which  I  had  been  admitted  as  a  brother. 

"  Nor  did  the  Aricaras  themselves,  in  spite  of  the 
Indian  habit  of  generally  controlling  the  external  exhi 
bition  of  their  feelings,  entirely  suppress  their  joy  at 
again  seeing  me.  The  Great  Eagle  himself  apparently 
laid  aside  the  usual  Indian  phlegm,  which  I  had  so  re 
peatedly  noticed  in  his  whole  bearing  and  manner,  and 
embraced  me,  as  though  I  had  been  an  only  and  be 
loved  son  brought  back  to  him  from  death. 

"Moreover,  immediately  after  they  had  received  me, 
I  was  escorted  in  triumph  to  my  ancient  hut. 

"This,  through  a  delicacy  of  sentiment  which  is  but 
rarely  found  among  civilized  people,  had  been  unin 
habited  since  my  departure,  although  kept  scrupulously 
in  good  order;  the  Aricaras  not  desiring  that  any 
one  but  myself  should  dwell  within  it. 

"  I  remained   amongst   them   for   nearly   a   month. 


NEWS   FROM   GERMANY,    ETC.  207 

This  was  not  merely  on  business.  The  matters  connect 
ed  with  that  portion  of  my  visit  were  soon  terminated. 
The  Aricaras,  indeed,  were  so  delighted  with  again 
seeing  me,  that  they  let  me  have,  without  any  objec 
tion,  all  the  furs  and  horses  which  I  needed,  upon  iny 
own  terms ;  which,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  were 
fair  and  even  liberal.  Indeed,  in  more  than  one  in 
stance,  they  wished  to  force  upon  me  the  horses  I 
desired,  as  gifts.  This  is  mentioned  by  me  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  that  the  red  man  is  by  no  means 
so  mercenary  as  the  Indian  traders  commonly  paint 
him.  On  the  contrary,  where  his  affections  are  awak 
ened,  he  not  infrequently  exhibits  a  liberality  and  no 
bility  of  character  which  might  put  his  white  brother 
to  the  blush. 

"After  my  business  was,  however,  concluded,  the 
rhiefs  and  principal  men  of  the  tribe  designed  to  give 
me  the  pleasure  of  a  great  buffalo-hunt.  This  time,  it 
was  decided  that  they  should  employ  the  lasso. 

"On.  a  pleasant  morning,  at  the  commencement  of 
May,  we  accordingly  set  out,  mounted  on  the  best 
horses  of  the  tribe,  and  numbering  in  our  party  every 
chief  and  warrior  of  any  note  that  could  be  found 
among  the  Aricaras.  After  travelling  for  three  days, 
we  at  last  reached  the  borders  of  an  immense  prairie, 
and  saw  almost  directly  before  us  a  large  herd  of  buf 
faloes.  These  animals  were  feeding,  and,  as* heedless 


208  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

as  ever,  looked  quietly  at  us,  without  being  in  the  least 
disturbed  by  our  approach. 

"  The  Great  Eagle  commanded  a  halt,  and  divided 
his  warriors  into  two  parties,  one  of  which  he  kept  with 
himself.  The  other  had  been,  with  true  Indian  polite 
ness,  offered  to  me;  but,  on  my  declining  to  take 
charge  of  it,  which  had  evidently  been  expected,  was 
assigned  to  the  Fox.  This  party  immediately  galloped 
off  to  flank  the  herd,  and  then  our  party  gradually 
closed  in  upon  them. 

"  When  we  had  arrived  pretty  near  them,  the  buffa 
loes  began  to  seem  uneasy;  and  an  antelope,  which 
started  from  their  midst  at  full  speed,  gave  the  alarm 
to  them.  They  tossed  their  heads,  uttering  sounds  like 
low  and  muttering  thunder.  Then  they  also  started. 
The  very  earth  seemed  to  shake  beneath  their  tread. 
It  was  a  grand  thing  to  one  unaccustomed  to  it,  to  be 
hold  such  a  throng  of  wild  animals  in  hurried  flight. 

"  We  had,  however,  participated  in  the  sport  a  hun 
dred  times,  and  were  only  stirred  to  new  ardor  by  it. 
Preparing  the  lasso  above  our  heads,  we  pushed  our 
horses  to  a  gallop. 

"  As  often  as  we  came  near  to  a  fine  animal,  the 
lasso  was  sent,  with  its  balls  whistling  through  the  air, 
by  the  hand  of  the  hunter.  It  rolled  itself  around  the 
horns  or  legs  of  the  animal.  The  poor  brute,  affrighted 
Sy  the  entanglement  to  which  it  was  unaccustomed,  in 


NEWS    FROM    GERMANY^    ETC.  20S 

vain  essayed  to  free  itself.  The  thongs  ouiy  drew 
themselves  tighter  and  more  closely  around  it.  In  its 
fright  or  its  rage,  it  would  bellow  loudly,  and  quicken 
its  wild  flight;  but  as  it  fled  the  thongs  tightened, 
until  at  length  it  rolled  helplessly  upon  the  earth, 
where  the  lance  or  the  tomahawk  soon  despatched  it. 

This  sport  requires  great  coolness  and  address,  and 
even,  more  especially,  great  skill.  The  reason  of  this 
is  that  the  buffaloes,  rendered  furious  by  the  sight  of 
blood,  and  maddened  by  the  bellowing  of  their  lassoed 
and  wounded  companions,  run  in  every  direction. 

"  Woe,  then,  to  the  hunter  who  chances  to  find  him 
self  in  their  infuriated  path. 

"Himself  and  his  horse  are  quickly  thrown  to  the 
earth  by  the  fierce  rush  of  the  savage  brute,  when  they 
are  either  ripped  up  by  its  keen  horns,  or  crushed  be 
neath  its  heavy  feet.  It  is,  indeed,  seldom  that  one  or 
both  of  them  are  not  grievously  wounded;  and,  in 
many  cases,  the  hapless  Indian  is  borne  home  by  his 
kinsmen  or  companions,  either  dead  or  dying. 

"We,  however,  had  this  day  no  accident  to  deplore, 
and  it,  closed  as  gayly  and  joyously  as  it  had  com 
menced;  our  party  having  killed  eight  buffaloes,  and 
that  led  by  the  Fox  having  slaughtered  eleven,  or 
nineteen  in  all. 

"  After  skinning  and  cutting  up  three  of  the  dead 
animals,  fireplaces,  or  rather  cooking-holes,  were.pre- 

14 


-10  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

pared  in  ;i  manner,  which,  I  believe,  is  peculiar  to  the 
Aricaras  alone  of  the  Indian  tribes. 

"  A  deep  hole  was  excavated  in  the  earth,  in  which 
a  fire  was  kindled,  prepared  with  dried  brandies, 
leaves,  and  turf.  Upon  this  burning  or  smouldering 
mass,  the  joint  "of  buffalo-beef  was  placed.  This  was 
again  covered  with  dry  branches  and  turf,  which  slowly 
ignite  from  the  stealthy  fire  below;  and,  in  about 
twenty  minutes,  the  joint  is  broiled,  as  its  Indian  cook 
conceives,  fit  for  his  own  palate.  The  cinder  is  then 
removed  from  above  it.  Having  been  taken  from  the 
hole,  its  exterior  and  blackened  portion  is  scraped  off. 
Supposing  that  the  hunter  may  not  be  averse  to  meat 
which  will  be  somewhat  underdone,  he  c:m  then  sit 
down  to  a  dinner  which,  hastily  as  it  may  have  been 
cooked,  has  seldom  if  ever  been  rivalled. 

"Upon  finishing  our  meal,  we  threw  ourselves  upon 
the  earth,  and  slept  soundly,  guards  having  been 
posted  by  the  Great  Eagle  around  the  spot  to  secure 
our  slumbers  from  the  possible  intrusion  of  enemies." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MY    PROPOSED    VISIT    TO   NEW   ORLEANS. 

"!T  was  but  a  few  days  after  my  return  from  the 
hunting-grounds  to  the  village  of  the  Aricaras,  th:it  I, 
with  the  whole  of  my  party,  bade  them  '  farewell.'  We 
then  departed  for  our  homes,  or  rather  I  did  to  the 
temporary  home  which  I  now  had  with  Mr.  Bulwer  in 
the  Great  West,  as  the  Americans  near  the  Atlantic 
were  then,  and  are  now,  as  I  understand,  accustomed 
to  call  the  whole  of  that  portion  of  their  country  which 
then  lay  upon  the  very  verge  of  civilization. 

"  On  my  arrival  at  St.  Louis,  I  was  received  by  him- 
sclf  and  his  good  wife  with  open  arms,  —  indeed,  I  was 
tieated  more  by  them  as  a  son  than  as  a  stranger,  —  and, 
when  I  displayed  to  Mr.  Bulwer  the  results  of  my  visit 
to  my  Indian  friends,  he  expressed  himself  more  than 
pleased. 

"He  informed  me  that  I  had  more  than  justified  the 

211 


'212  THE   PRAIRTE   CRUSOE. 

opinion  which  he  had  entertained  of  my  sagacity,  and 
said,  that  if  he  had  previously  doubted,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  ray  success,  this  doubt  was  now  entirely  re 
moved.  From  one  of  the  hunters  who  had  accompa 
nied  me  on  my  expedition,  I  heard  that  he  affirmed  my 
furs  to  be  both  the  most  numerous  and  the  most  valua 
ble  which  had  been  brought  into  St.  Louis  during  many 
seasons.  This  I  knew  that  they  must  be.  Seldom, 
indeed,  was  it  that  the  Indian  trade  was  opened  under 
such  good  auspices  as  it  had  been  by  me.  Nevertheless, 
Mr.  Bulwer's  opinion  was  by  so  much  the  more  agreea 
ble  as,  fatherly  though  his  conduct  almost  invariably 
was,  he  was  somewhat  chary  of  eulogy  in  every  in 
stance  that  was  in  the  remotest  degree  connected  with 
business.  This  was,  of  course,  upon  the  principle  which 
is  common  to  most  mercantile  men,  whether  they  reside 
in  the  United  States,  or  in  any  oilier  section  of  the 
civilized  world, —  I  mean  that  indisposition  to  ackiunyl- 
edge  merit  in  the  young,  which  is  so  universally  share-.'! 
by  almost  all  mercantile  men. 

"  His  opinion,  however,  stimulated  me  to  new  exer 
tion.  This  it  did  by  setting  before  mine  eyes  more 
visibly,  that  reward,  which,  by  God's  providence,  I 
might,  not  altogether  unreasonably,  hope  to  obtain.  It 
was  for  this  reason  that  I  prepared  myself  for  a  more 
unremitting  assiduity  to  the  calling  in  which  I  ha«l  a*i 
his  suggestion  embarked. 


PROPOSED    VISIT   TO    NEW   ORLEANS. 

"  For  more  than  four  years,  therefore,  I  continued  to 
visit  the  Aricaras  towards  the  close  of  the  hunting- 
season. 

"  During  this  period,  I  began  to  acquire  a  considera 
ble  reputation  in  the  fur-trade,  while  the  horses  which 
I  brought  back  with  me  upon  each  trip  were  to  the  full 
as  valuable  to  me,  or  even  more  valuable  in  proportion 
to  their  number. 

"  It  must  be  remembered  that  a  large  proportion  of 
each  year  was  comparatively  unoccupied.  I  had, 
therefore,  some  seven  months  in  which  ray  business  by 
no  means  weighed  upon  me,  and  after  a  time  it  struck 
me  forcibly,  that  excepting  the  period  actually  engaged 
in  my  transit  to  and  from  my  Indian  friends,  with  my 
annual  sojourn  amongst  them,  and  some  three  weeks 
about  the  period  in  the  spring  when  the  dealers  in  furs 
visited  St.  Louis,  my  existence  was  comparatively 
outness. 

"Certainly  I  read,  and  read  a  good  deal.  But  it 
must  be  remembered  that  I  was  still  young,  and  that 
my  previous  life  had  been  a  busy  and  adventurous  one. 
Consequently,  I  needed  action. 

"  What  necessity  could  there  be,  I  inquired  of  my 
self,  for  my  transacting  my  affairs,  on  the  disposal  of  my 
yearly  stock,  with  the  agents  who  visited  St.  Louis  .J 
Why  should  I  not  repair  myself  to  New  Orleans  or 
New  York,  and  examine  the  market?  The  more  I 


214  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

thought  over  this,  the  more  convinced  did  1  become 
that  this  was  desirable.  Should  I  do  so,  I  knew  that  I 
could  obtain  a  more  thorough  knowledge  of  the  value 
of  the  articles  which  I  had  to  dispose  of,  and  might 
very  probably  open  to  myself  other  channels  wJiieli 
might  increase  their  value  to  me. 

"This  I  suggested  to  Mr.  Bulwer,  when  we  word 
seated  in  his  parlor,  one  evening,  alone.  lie  for  some 
time  listened  to  my  arguments  in  silence. 

"  At  length,  he  inquired  of  me,  what  I  proposed  to 
myself  beyond  the  pleasure  of  the  trip  and  the  gratifi 
cation  of  a  love  of  excitement. 

"' My  good  sir,'  I  replied,  feeling  somewhat  annoyed 
by  the  slighting  manner  in  which  his  question  had  been 
shaped/I  propose  to  myself,  in  the  first  place,  to  escape 
the  gix  or  seven  months  of  idleness  which  I  now  pass 
in  St.  Louis.  Even  should  I  fail  in  improving  the 
market  for  our  goods,  I  shall,  at  all  events,  increase  my 
knowledge  of  the  world.' 

"  '  That  is  very  true.' 

"  *  If  so,'  I  continued,  '  whether  I  acquire  a  better 
pecuniary  position  or  not,  I  shall  most  certainly  bo 
considerably  benefitted.' 

'"That  may  be  doubted,'  was  the  grave  response 
made  to  me  by  Mr.  Bulwer. 

"'How  so?'  I  asked,  in  a  tone  which,  it  may  be  j.r* 
Binned,  betrayed  what  I  felt. 


rnoruSKD  vihiT  10  KKW  OIJLKANR. 

-'Do  not  be  annoyed,  William,'  he  said. 
not  know  you  as  well  as  I  do,  I  should  arhe 
protest  against  such  youth  as  yours  is,  so  impubive  and 
fresh,  running  the  risk  of  contain! nation  in  a  lave-  cr,y.' 
Small  as  New  York  and  New  Orleans  then  were,  in 
proportion  to  their  present  size,  it  must  be  rcmembere-l 
that  they  were  two  of  the  largest  cities  on  the  Eorth- 
American  continent.     4  In  New  Orleans,  indeed,  tho 
Creole  population,  with  its  French  descent,  from  its  an 
cestry,  and  the  enervating  climate  under  which  it  lives, 
has  contracted  a  most  pernicious  laxity  in  its  moral 
life.     I  have  myself  lived  amongst  its  inhabitants  some 
three  years.'     As  he  said   this,  he  sighed  deeply.     'If 
you  are  certain  that  you  can  endure  temptation  of  every 
kind,  without  yielding,  obey  your  inclination.     If  not 
my  dear  William,  it  would  be  far  better  for  you  to  re 
main  among  your  friends,  and  trust  your  affairs  in  th< 
hands  of  the  regular  factors  who  visit  us.' 

«  As  he  concluded,  he  veiled  his  brow  with  his  rigl-'. 
hand,  and  appeared  to  be  lost  in  thought." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

COMMENCEMENT    OP    MR.   BULWEU's    STORY. 

"  FOR  several  moments  I  refrained  from  breaking  the 
silence,  being  occupied  in  reflecting  upon  that  which 
my  good  friend  had  said.  It  was  now  for  a  considera 
ble  time  that  I  had  known  Mr.  Bulwer  as  intimately  as 
it  is  possible  for  any  very  young  man  to  know  one  who 
in  age  has  so  many  years  the  advantage  of  him ;  yet 
this  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  heard  the  name  of 
New  Orleans  cross  his  tongue  in  other  than  a  purely 
business  connection.  Let  me  frankly  own  it,  my  curi 
osity  was  strongly  awakened  by  the  melancholy  tone 
in  which  he  had  spoken,  as  by  well  as  the  emphatic 
words  of  condemnation  that  he  had  just  employed. 

"At  length,  I  ventured,  when  sufficiently  assured,  to 
ask  him  how  long  it  might  have  been  since  he  was 
last  in  that  city  ? 

" '  Some  thirty-four  years. 

217 


218  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"'And  your  recollections  of  it  are  then  disagreeable, 
sir  ? '    I  said  in  an  inquiring  tone. 

"'I  will  tell  you  how  it  was  that  I  came  to  quit  it 
forever,'  he  replied,  with  as  sharp  a  manner  and  accent 
as  his  kindly  voice  was  capable  of  assuming;  'then 
you  can  judge  for  yourself  with  how  great  a  love  [ 
regard  it.'  When  he  saw  my  look  of  pain  at  his 
strangely  changed  tone,  he  extended  his  hand,  and  laid 
it  gently  upon  my  arm.  'Forgive  me,  William,'  he 
said  softly,  'for  my  quick  and  abrupt  manner.  There 
are  some  things  which  we  can  none  of  us  think  of 
without  pain.  The  three  years  of  which  I  have  spoken 
contain  the  misery  of  my  whole  life.  What  wonder  is 
it  that  I  am  unable  to  recall  them  without  having  my 
tongue  sharpen,  and  my  mouth  parch,  as  I  am  speak- 


ing!' 


"  After  a  brief  pause,  he  again  resumed. 

"As  the  night  gradually  stole  upon  us,  both  became 
so  deeply  interested,  he  in  telling,  and  I  in  listening 
to,  his  strange  tale,  that  neither  of  us  took  any  note  of 
time.  The  lamp  was  unlit  by  which  we  were  accus 
tomed  to  sit ;  and  when  it  ended,  save  that  the  moon 
had  arisen,  the  darkness  would  have  been  complete. 

"  It  would  be  well-nigh  impossible  for  me  to  recall 
the  exact  words  in  which  the  story  of  those  three  years 
was  given. 

"Therefore  it  may  perhaps  be  better,  if  I  myself 


MR.  BULWER'S  STORY.  219 

should  put  it  into  shape,  and  give  it  a  complete  connec 
tion.  This,  the  more  especially,  as  it  was  much  broken 
np  by  personal  comments  in  its  delivery.  Indeed, 
a  portion  of  its  conclusion  was  afterwards  recounted  to 
me  by  Mrs.  Bulwer,  her  husband  having  been  too  mod 
est  to  give  me  the  whole  of  the  details,  reflecting,  as 
they  did,  so  much  credit  upon  himself. 

"At  the  time  when  Mr.  Bulwer  first  visited  what  has 
subsequently  been  named  the  Crescent  City,  he  was  a 
comparative  boy.     His  father  was  at  that  period  a  tol 
erably  thriving  merchant  in  New  York,  in  which  city 
he  had  resided  for  the  preceding  quarter  of  a  century. 
How  he  came  to  send  his  boy  to  the  capital  of  the  then 
French  province  of  Louisiana  was  in  itself  sufficiently 
singular.    A  French  Creole  who  had  a  sugar  plantation 
on  the  Mississippi,  some  dozen   or  more  miles  above 
New  Orleans,   had,  several   years   previously,   by  the 
usual,   or   perhaps   I    ought  only  to  say,  by  the   too 
frequent,  improvidence  of  the  planters  of  those  times, 
ruined  himself.    He  subsequently  died  in  New  Orleans, 
partly  by  intemperance,  and  partly  from  grief  over  the 
destitution  in  which  he  had  placed  his  wife  and  his 
only  son.     Shortly  aftef,  his   wife  also  died.     It  was 
said  at  the  time  that  she  had  fallen  into  a  decline,  con 
sequent  upon  the  change   in   her  condition.     It  is  at 
least  as  probable  from  what  Mr.  Bulwer  told  me,  tha' 
8he  died  of  that  grief,  which  we  too  commonly  call  a 


2'JO  THE   PRAIRIE    CRUSOE. 

broken  heart,  resulting  upon  the  knowledge;  but  I 
must  not  anticipate  my  story. 

"At  the  time  of  his  father's  death,  M.  Eugene  de 
Lessaix  was  barely  twenty-three. 

"  He  was  handsome,  a  good  linguist,  and  indefatiga 
ble  in  the  pursuit  of  any  thing,  whether  it  was  pleasure 
or  business,  which  he  might  undertake.  A  few  days 
subsequently  to  the  burial  of  the  deceased,  he  had  a 
long  interview  with  his  mother.  What  passed  be 
tween  them  was  never  known ;  but  some  three  weeks 
afterwards  he  sailed  for  Rio  Janeiro,  with  the  avowed 
intention  of  seeking  his  fortune. 

"Through  a  Spanish  banker  in  New  Orleans,  Madame 
de  Lessaix  received,  some  six  months  later,  a  large 
sum  of  money  from  him.  This  she  declined  to  use, 
and  subsequently,  scarcely  more  than  a  year  after 
wards,  Eugene  de  Lessaix  was  the  only  one  of  hi? 
family  left  alive. 

"  In  some  two  years  after  this,  he  returned  to  New 
Orleans,  much  bronzed,  as  a  man  might  be  who  had 
been  roughing  it  on  the  pampas,  or  who  had  worked 
before  the  r??ast.  He  was,  however,  or.  at  all  events, 
seemed  to  be  so,  a  wealthy  man. 

;<I-Ie  entered  into  the  tobacco  and  sugar  business  in 
thst  cijy.  Like  most  of  the  Creole  merchants  of  that 
period,  however,  he  by  no  means  confined  himself  to 
these  r.taples.  In  his  warerooms  almost  any  thing 


MR.    BULWEIt's   STORY.  22i 

that  was  an  article  of  luxury  or  value  might  be  met 

with. 

"It  so  happened  that  a  vessel  in  which  M.  Lessaix 

had  visited,  or  said  that  he  had  visited,  France,  was 

wrecked  upon  its  return. 

"  He  was  the  only  person  saved,  having  been  picked 

up,  lashed  to  a  broken  spar,  by  'The  Mary  Anne,'  a 

brig  bound  to  New  York,  when  on   its  return  from 

Marseilles.     This  brig  belonged  to  the  parent  of  Mr. 

Bulwer. 

"It  is  more  properly  at  this  point  that  my  good 

friend's  story  really  begins. 

"  Nothing  could  well  be  more  natural,  than,  at  his 
arrival  at  New  York,  he  should  visit  the  gentleman  by 
whose  crew  he  had  been  rescued  from  death.  It  may 
not  have  been  so  necessarily  natural,  that  he  should 
have,  so  rapidly  as  he  did,  become  intimate  with 
him.  But  M.  Lessaix  was,  to  all  appearance,  an  hon 
orable,  as  he  most  decidedly  was  a  highly  cultivated 
and  engaging  person.  In  consequence,  there  is  really 
little  occasion  for  surprise. 

"Apparently,  M.  Lessaix  took  a  great  fancy  for  my 
friend,  at  that  period  little  more  than  a  boy.  He  was 
then  scarcely  past  his  eighteenth  year.  In  an  even 
shorter  space  of  time  than  it  had  taken  the  Creole  V> 
acquire  the  friendship  of  the  father,  he  became  fV.r  u-or  J 
intimate  with  the  son. 


222  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"  The  Creole,  as  I  have  already  said,  was  an  excel 
lent  linguist.  He  spoke  English,  as  Mr.  Bulwer  told 
me,  with  remarkable  purity  and  elegance.  The  boy 
was  at  this  time  by  his  father's  desire,  studying; 
French.  Here  was  another  reason  to  facilitate  their 
intimacy,  and  to  induce  the  old  man  to  promote  it  as 
much  as  he  possibly  could.  At  this  time  also,  the  boy 
was  by  no  means  so  staid  and  tranquil  as  he  had  been 
as  a  man,  and,  indeed,  as  I  had  always  seen  him.  He 
was,  most  undoubtedly,  innocently  free  from  all  vicious 
tendencies ;  but  he  was  sprightly,  and  fond  of  gayety. 
There  could  necessarily  be  but  little  doubt,  that  when 
he  saw  his  own  gayety  and  sprightliness  reproduced  by 
an  older  man  than  himself,  with  a  grace  and  ease  of 
manner  to  which  he  could  present  no  pretension,  as 
well  as  with  the  superadded  charm  of  perfect  breed 
ing,  he  should  become  completely  fascinated. 

"  The  result  of  this  may  be  easily  imagined. 

"Some  five  months  had  passed  before  M.  Lessaix 
could  return  direct  to  New  Orleans.  It  had  been  no 
ticed  with  but  little  astonishment  that  he  had  cashed 
a  large  draft  on  his  house  through  the  Portuguese  con 
sul,  although  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  he 
would  have  naturally  had  recourse  to  the  consul  of  his 
own  nation.  It  had  also  been  remarked  that  he  had 
found  no  difficulty  in  doing  so.  This,  of  course,  waa 
attributed  to  his  direct  mercantile  connection  with 


MR.    BULWER'S  STORY.  223 

Brazil,  at  that  time  a  Portuguese  dependency.  At 
length,  a  large  schooner  was  to  sail  for  Havana,  and 
from  Havana  an  easy  chance  might  be  found  for  his 
return.  The  schooner  was  laden  with  a  valuable 
cargo.  She  was  to  sail  from  Cuba  for  Rio,  and  M. 
Lessaix  saw  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  and  made  ar 
rangements  with  him  for  his  own  passage  to  Havana. 

"This  was  about  a  week  before  the  day  on  which 
the  schooner  was  to  leave  New  York,  and,  in  the  after 
noon,  the  father  of  Mr.  Bulwer  summoned  his  son  into 
his  counting-house,  and  told  him  that  he  had  made  ar 
rangements  with  his  new  friend  for  the  boy  to  pass 
the  following  two  years  in  New  Orleans  as  a  clerk  to 
M.  Lessaix.  This  decision  was  urged  upon  him  by  the 
wish  that  young  Bulwer  should  enlarge  his  experience. 
It  is  needless  to  say,  that,  with  the  exception  of  the 
natural  regret  at  parting  from  his  parents,  this  deter 
mination  was  received  by  his  son  with  unfeigned 
pleasure." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


MR.    BULWEB    AT    HAVANA.-      M. 

<%  ACCORDINGLY,  the  boy  sailed  u  th  his  i  ».w  friend 
for  the  South,  and  reached  Havana  in  safet.  It  was 
some  three  weeks  before  a  chanc*  arrived  for  their 
crossing  the  Gulf  to  New  Orleans,  and  he  f  U  some 
surprise  at  the  almost  universal  dc^rence  vvl  ih  was 
offered  to  his  employer. 

"Moreover,  that  employer's  mannas  had  air  :st  im 
perceptibly  changed  towards  him;  &  change  wh>,h  he 
attributed  to  the  difference  between  their  pas  and 
present  positions  with  regard  to  each  other.  Altl  >ugh 
as  friendly  as  before,  M.  Lessaix  did  not  associate  rith 
him  as  much  or  as  freely  as  he  had  previously  d  ne. 
In  short,  he  let  him  feel  that  this  friendliness  must  in 
his  case,  be  regarded  as  exceptional,  or,  at  all  eve  \  % 
as  an  unusual  kindliness,  to  one  who  H,d  no  right  to 

look  for  it. 

22: 


":2  THE   PRA1U1E    CRUSOE. 

"  One  day  iii  especial,  he  entered  the  apartment  of 
M.  Lcssaix,  at  the  hotel  where  they  were  stopping, 
vory  suddenly.  He  was  talking  with  a  bearded  and 
s'.alwart  naval  officer,  although  the  young  man  could 
not  tell  from  his  rich  and  tawdry  uniform  to  what  na 
tion  he  belonged  ;  and  these  were  the  words  he  heard 
on  entering  the  room.  The  officer  was  speaking  in  the 
English  tongue.  He  was  apparently  a  native  of  Great 
Britain,  if  any  judgment  could  be  formed  from  his  ac- 
c«?nt ;  but  this,  young  Bulwer  afterwards  doubted,  as 
he  spoke  with  equal  ease,  Spanish,  when  they  changed 
the  language  in  which  they  had  been  conversing. 

"'And  what  shall  I  do  with  the  coffee  and  spice, 
captain  ? ' 

"M.  Lessaix  answered  sharply  and  imperatively, 
'Store  them  in  Martinique.  As  for  the  money'  — 
While  saying  this,  his  eye  fell  upon  the  boy.  For  a 
moment  a  savage  frown  covered  his  face,  and  the  in 
voluntary  intruder  shrank  back.  However,  in  the  next 
moment  it  had  passed,  and  his  usual  pleasant  smile 
rose  to  his  lips.  'Come  in,  mon  ami]  he  said,  'we 
were  only  talking  on  business.'  As  he  uttered  these 
words,  his  glance  turned  to  his  companion,  who  had 
retired  a  step,  and  had  thrust  his  hand  into  the  bosom 
of  his  richly  laced  waistcoat.  A  fe»v  fierce  Spanish 
words  were  spoken  by  him,  to  which  an  even  more 
angry  reply  was  apparently  returned.  Then  M.  Les- 


MR.    BULWER   AT   HAVANA.  227 

saix  rose,  and,  with  what  appeared  to  young  Bulwei 
an  abrupt  order,  pointed  to  the  door  of  the  apartment, 
The  sailor  looked  defiantly  from  him  to  the  boy  for  a 
moment;  then  he  seemed  suddenly  to  remember  him 
self,  and  with  a  low  bow  to  the  one,  and  a  sharp,  short 
nod  to  the  other,  retired  from  the  room. 

"As  he  did  so,  Lessaix  turned  to  Mr.  Bulwer. 

"<It  is  an  unpleasant  thing,  mon  cher?  he  slowly 
laughed  out,  'to  have  business  with  this  sort  of  person. 
If  wo  are  disposed  to  defer  it,  they  seem  personally  to 
resent  it.  It  is  the  old  Catalan  blood,  that  is  always 
boiling.' 

"  The  lad  here  ventured  to  say,  that  he  had  thought 
his  companion  was  an  Englishman. 

" '  No :  a  Spanish  Creole,  my  child,'  he  said  caress 
ingly.  Then,  passing  his  arm  around  the  boy's  neck, 
he  drew  him  gently  towards  the  door.  'If  our  volante 
has  arrived,  we  will  go  and  take  our  evening's  drive 
around  the  Prado.'  The  carriage  to  which  he  alluded 
was,  at  that  time,  the  only  vehicle  employed  by  the 
wealthier  Havanese  for  pleasure.  It  consisted  of  a 
large  body,  with  seats  for  two  persons ;  although  very 
commonly  three  ladies  might  be  seen  riding  in  one  of 
them.  This  body  was  supported  upon  two  large  wheels, 
and  was  generally  drawn  by  a  single  fine  horse  be 
tween  its  two  long  shafts.  Sometimes,  however,  a 
second  horse  or  mule  is  attached  on  the  left  side  of  one 


228  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

of  the  shafts,  somewhat  in  advance  of  the  animal  on 
which  rides  the  postilion,  who  is  invariably  a  negro. 

"  In  a  very  short  time,  Mr.  Bulwcr  had  forgotten  this 
incident,  although  subsequent  circumstances  recalled  ii 
to  him  :  this  the  more  readily,  as  in  a  few  days  they 
get  sail  for  New  Orleans,  in  a  vessel  belonging  to  M. 
Lessaix,  which  was  then  on  its  return  to  that  city  from 
Rio. 

"The  young  man  had  of  necessity  seen  much  of  the 
mercantile  marine  in  the  port  of  New  York ;  but  he 
was  astonished  at  the  greater  neatness  and  precision 
exhibited  in  all  the  details  on  board  '  The  Rover.'  Be 
sides  this,  her  crew  seemed  to  be  unusually  large. 
One  morning,  however,  his  friend  explained  to  him 
that  there  was  so  much  piracy  on  the  coast  of  South 
America,  that  he  was  obliged  to  man  his  trading  ves 
sels  largely,  as  well  as  to  send  them  out  sufficiently 
armed.  In  this  he  alluded  to  the  four  brass  carron- 
ades  which  the  schooner  carried.  It  would  be  need 
less  to  say  that  the  lad  implicitly  credited  this  asper- 
tion." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

LOVE,   PIRACY,    AND    A    LITTLE    KIDNAPPING. 

"ON  their  arrival  at  New  Orleans,  after  the  first 
week  had  passed,  the  1:: "  s  •(!,  1  down  very  naturally 
and  easily  in1'>  the  position  of  second  clerk  at  the 
wholesale  an  1  ivtuil  warehouse  which  M.  Lessaix  had 
on  the  levee,  or  wharf,  which  runs  along  that  city 
where  it  touches  the  Mississippi. 

"The  extent  of  business  done  there  was  very  large, 
and  the  goods  sold  were  very  various,  —  tobacco,  cot 
fee,  and  sugar  from  the  West  Indies,  spices  and  coco*> 
from  Brazil,  silks  ami  laces  from  France,  velvets  froi> 
Venice,  jewelry  from  England,  France,  and  Hollanu, 
tea  from  China,  indigo  from  the  East ;   and,  indeed,  al 
most  every  variety  of  valuable  or  choice  merchandise 
might  be  found  in  his  warerooms. 

"At  first  the  young  man  had  not  noticed  that  in 
goods  were  consigned  direct  to  the  house;  but,  in  th»< 

829 


230  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

second  year  that  he  was  with  M.  Lessaix,  he  began  to 
remark  this.  The  accounts  of  the  house  were  only  for 
goods  sold.  Upon  observing  this  fact  to  the  principal 
clerk,  an  elderly  man,  who  appeared  to  have  some 
share  in  the  business,  and  was  of  a  very  uncommuni 
cative  nature,  he  received  a  reply  which  struck  him  as 
very  singular. 

" '  The  business  of  M.  Lessaix,'  said  the  clerk,  '  is, 
my  good  young  gentleman,  chiefly  dependent  upon  the 
contraband  trade.' 

" '  But  the  contraband  goods  must  be  received,'  re 
plied  young  Bulwer. 

" '  So  they  are.' 

"'But  where?' 

"'My  dear  young  friend,'  uttered  his  grave  superior 
in  the  house,  'let  me  give  you  a  hint,  not  to  ask  that 
question  from  M.  Lessaix.' 

"'And  why?  he  has  always  told  me  to  apply  to 
him  for  any  information.' 

"'He,  he,  he!'  chuckled  the  v.lerk.  'Not  about 
himself,  —  not  about  himself.'  As  he  said  this,  lie 
thrust  his  long,  lean  forefinger  into  the  side  of  the  lad, 
with  a  rapidity  and  vigor  that  almost  took  away  his 
breath.  Then  he  chuckled  again,  turned  abruptly  fror.i 
him,  and  would  not  utter  another  word. 

"In  addition  to  this,  M.  Lessaix  was  very  frequently 
away  from  his  business.  Once  ho  had  been  absent  for 


LOVE,    PIRACY,    ETC. 

more  than  five  months.  He  had  probably  been  en 
gaged  in  a  voyage,  —  running  in  more  contraband 
goods,  as  his  second  clerk  thought ;  yet  that  clerk 
was  somewhat  astonished  to  see,  on  his  employer's  re 
turn,  that  his  brow  was  seamed  on  the  left  side  by 
what  appeared  to  be  a  sabre-cut. 

"'We  were  nearly  taken  by  pirates,  mon  cher,  when 
we  were  about  two  days  out  from  Jamaica.  This  is 
the  remembrance  they  left  me.' 

"On  Mr.  Bulwer's  asking  him  the  particulars,  these 
were  give-  in  a  sufficiently  vague  and  general  manner 
to  produce  the  impression  that  they  might  not  pre 
cisely  be  altogether  true.  However,  at  this  time  the 
young  man  had  no  apparent  reason  to  suspect  his  em 
ployer  of  being  engaged  in  the  illegal  calling  he  really 
pursued.  Consequently,  his  reply  left  no  very  durable 
impression  upon  the  lad's  mind. 

"  It  was  shortly  after  this  that  he  became  acquainted 
with  his  present  wife.  Indeed,  to  this  acquaintanceship 
he  attributed  the  fact  that  he  had  not  gradually  given 
himself  up  more  completely  to  the  influence  which  M. 
Lessaix  had,  since  their  first  knowledge  of  each  other, 
acquired  over  him. 

"She  was  the  daughter  of  an  English  produce- 
dealer,  who  had  been  settled  for  a  length  of  time  in 
the  city.  During  the  last  seven  years,  he  had  been  the 
English  consul  at  that  port.  At  that,  time  it  was  not, 


THE    PRAIRIE    CRUSOE. 

in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  a  post  of  any  very  great 
importance ;  but  it  gave  him  some  standing  in  the 
higher  classes  of  the  city,  who,  although  sharing  in 
the  dislike  of  their  own  nation  for  his,  respected  his 
commercial  probity,  and  had  a  high  opinion  of  his  gen 
eral  intelligence. 

"At  first,  he  had  seemed  disposed  not  to  encour 
age  young  Bulwer's  advances  towards  intimacy,  but, 
probably  after  some  inquiry  into  his  position  in  the 
world,  had  become  convinced  that  he  might  safely 
admit  him  to  his  fireside. 

"Then  some  one  or  two  months  passed,  and  Mr. 
Bulwer  found  himself  recognized  in  the  family  as  a 
welcome  suitor  to  their  daughter. 

"He  had  written  to  his  father;  and,  after  a  fair  time 
had  elapsed  for  his  parents  to  ascertain  the  position 
of  Mr.  Bishop,  and  the  character  he  bore  in  New  Or 
leans,  his  father  replied,  approving  his  choice.  At  the 
same  time,  he  wrote  a  lengthy  letter  to  Mr.  Bishop,  to 
which,  on  receiving  it,  the  latter  did  not  allude  for 
several  days. 

"  At  length,  one  evening,  when  young  Bulwer  called 
at  the  house  of  Mr.  Bishop,  he  found  the  daughter  out, 
or  was  informed  that  she  was.  He  was  also  told  by 
the  negro  servant  that  his  '  massa '  wished  to  see  him 
alone.  Accordingly,  he  went  into  the  private  office  of 
the  English  consul,  with  a  degree  of  timidity  which 


LOVE,   PIRACY,   ETC. 


233 


was  only  removed  by  the  cordiality  with  which  that 
gentleman  welcomed  him. 

"'Sit  down,  my  dear  Bulwer,'  said  the  consul.  *1 
have  a  good  deal  to  say  which  ought  to  be  told  you. 
When  I  first  received  your  father's  letter,  I  had  deter- 
mined  to  let  matters  take  the  course  which  he  had 
marked  out.  However,  upon  reflection,  I  think  it  bet 
ter  to  be  perfectly  candid.  Therefore  let  me  tell  you, 
that  it  is  through  my  agency  that  you  are  recalled  to 
New  York.' 

"Mr.  Bulwer  was  completely  astonished. 
"'My  dear  sir,'  he  at  length  said,  'let  me  assure  you, 
that  I  have  not  been  summoned  home  by  my  father.' 
"It  was  now  Mr.  Bishop's  turn  to  exhibit  surprise. 
"'How?'  he  inquired.     'Has  M.  Lessaix  said  noth 
ing  to  you  upon  the  subject?' 
" '  Not  a  word,  sir.' 

"  Mr.  Bishop  was  silent  for  several  moments.  Then 
he  said  reflectively,  '  But  he  will,  he  must,  do  so  in 
the  next  few  days.' 

« '  And  why,  may  I  ask,  Mr.  Bishop,'  asked  the  young 
man,  with  a  look  and  in  a  tone  which  betrayed  how 
much  he  felt  hurt,  both  on  his  own  account  and  that 
of  his  employer,  at  such  a  step, '  did  you  recommend 
my  father  to  call  me  back  ? ' 

"'For  reasons  which  were  with  me,  my  son,  mat 
ters  of  imperative  necessity.  Until  I  had  permitted 


234  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

you  to  enter  upon  this  engagement  with  Jenny,  it  was 
of  little  difference  to  me  where  you  might  be  em 
ployed.  Now,  my  dear  boy,  it  matters  much.' 

" '  Of  course  it  does,'  replied  young  Bulwer  quickly. 
cBut  M.  Lessaix,  as  a  merchant'  — 

" '  By  no  means,'  interrupted  the  English  consul 
gravely,  'bears  the  highest  character  amongst  those 
who  follow  a  similar  calling.' 

"  The  young  man  was  at  first  confounded,  and  then 
indignant. 

" l  My  good  sir,'  he  said  sharply,  '  I  have  been  em 
ployed  by  him  for  more  than  two  years.' 

" '  In  his  sales,  only,'  was  the  answer. 

"  It  struck  young  Bulwer  at  once,  that  this  was  true. 
He  knew  not  how  .the  goods  were  purchased,  nor 
whence  they  came.  At  the  same  time,  he  could  not 
see  in  what  way  this  fact  could  compromise  so  griev 
ously  his  principal. 

" '  Well,'  he  said,  i  supposing  that  he  is  a  smuggler.' 

" '  My  good  lad,'  replied  Mr.  Bishop,  '  make  no  mis 
take.  M.  Lessaix  is  no  smuggler.' 

"'What,  then,  do  you  say  he  is?' 

"'I  say  nothing.  But  he  is  suspected  of  being  a 
pirate.' 

"The  young  man  turned  pale.  He  was,  at  the  fl'-st 
moment,  disposed  to  denounce  the  accusation  as  an 
impossibility.  But  the  more  he  reflected  upon  il,  the 


LOVE,   PIRACY,   ETC. 

more  he  found  that  he  was  unable  to  do  so.  A  thou 
sand  slight  circumstances,  which,  at  the  time,  he  had 
been  unable  to  explain,  returned  upon  him.  All  of 
them  bore  convincing  testimony  to  the  truth  of  Mr. 
Bishop's  accusation. 

"When  he  left  him  that  night,  he  was  in  a  state  of 
the  most  profound  regret.  To  a  certain  extent  he  had 
liked,  nay,  he  had  almost  loved,  M.  Lessaix.  He  knew 
that  piracy,  at  that  period,  was  not  exactly  classed  with 
other  crimes ;  yet  he  also  knew  that  it  exposed  those 
who  were  guilty  of  it,  when  caught,  to  the  severest 
and  most  degrading  form  of  death.  There  is,  there 
fore,  little  to  be  surprised  at  in  his  having  determined 
to  warn  M.  Lessaix  of  that  which  he  was  suspected 

of. 

"He  may  possibly  have  supposed  that  M.  Lessaix 
would  have  been  indignant ;  but  he  knew  so  little  of 
the  man  as  he  really  was,  that  he  could  not  have  fore 
seen  in  how  great  a  trouble  he  was  involving  himself. 

"  On  his  first  speaking  to  that  gentleman,  which  was 
done  by  him  with  considerable  difficulty,  M.  Lessaix 
laughed  in  his  face.  This  annoyed  him,  and  enabled 
him  to  speak  much  more  clearly.  He  accused  him  of 
having  withheld  his  father's  letter  of  recall  from  him, 
and,  finally,  very  plainly  told  him  of  what  he  was  sus 
pected. 

«"  Indeed,'  said  his  employer,  after  a  brief  pause,  a 


THE   PRATPJE   CRUSOE. 

dark  smik  breaking  over  and  clouding  his  face,  *  and 
if  I  was?' 

" '  I  should  be  obliged  at  once  to  leave  you.' 
''  *  Oh,  no !  you  would  not.  You  are  a  young  man  of 
much  better  and  stronger  will  than  those  out  of  whom 
life  frames  her  tradesmen  and  mechanics.  For  two 
years,  I  have  had  my  eye  upon  you.  You  are  temper 
ate,  somewhat  cold-blooded,  —  so  much  the  better. 
My  purpose,  boy  as  you  then  were,  was  formed  when 
I  first  knew  you.  All  I  have  seen  of  you  lately  con 
firms  me  in  it.  You  will  accompany  me  to  sea  the 
next  time  that  I  go.  In  another  year,  you  shall  be  my 
second  in  command.'  Young  Bulwer  here  made  a 
gesture,  as  if  about  to  interrupt  him ;  but  he  avoided 
this  by  continuing  more  -apidly,  *  What  is  it  that  you 
have  hitherto  known  of  life ''(  Simply  nothing.  I  will 
carry  you  with  me  into  the  tropical  seas,  where  you 
will  revel  in  a  long  and  sunny  paradise  of  joy  and  ad 
venture.  Every  moment  will  give  you  a  new  delight, 
and  you  shall  wake  up  from  the  night's  sleep  to  thank 
me  and  nature  for  having  made  you  a  man.' 

"Here  Mr.  Bulwer  broke  in  upon  what  he  was  say 
ing  by  assuring  him  that  sucli  arguments  were  useless 
He  bade  him  reflect  upon  what  must  be  the  termina 
tion  of  his  own  career.  M.  Lessaix  laughed  at  him, 
and,  calling  him  a  boy,  adduced  argument  after  argu 
ment  to  gain  his  consent  'Luckily,'  as  my  friend 


LOVE,   PIRACY,   ETC.  237 

gaid,  his  conviction  of  the  uprightness  of  Providence, 
and  his  love  for  his  present  wife,  saved  him  from  giv 
ing  way  to  the  half  entreaty  and  half  command,  which 
was  so  persistently  urged  upon  him. 

"It  was  ultimately  agreed  upon  between  them,  that 
the  young  man  should  return  to  New  York  as  soon  as 
possible. 

"That  night,  however,  his  employer  insisted  upon 
his  supping  with  him.  Whether  the  coffee  of  which 
he  partook  was  drugged,  he  did  not  know;  but  when 
he  awoke,  late  on  the  following  day,  he  found  himself 
on  a  cot  in  the  cabin  of  the  schooner  on  which  he  had 
originally  arrived  in  New  Orleans.  She  was  moving 
with  a  swift  breeze  down  one  of  the  many  channels  in 
the  delta  of  the  Mississippi. 

"  Some  three  hours  later,  he  was  in  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

SHARKS    AND    P1KATES.  -  THE     PURSUIT.  —  TH3     7)K 
OF    M.    LESSAIX. 


"!T  would  be  useless  here  to  recount  all  that  young 
Bulwer  said  or  did.  Remonstrances,  prayers,  and 
threats  were  alike  of  no  avail  to  procure  the  pity,  or 
influence  the  fears,  of  those  who  had  the  charge  of  him; 
for  he  soon  discovered  that  M.  Lessaix  was  not  on 
board. 

"The  officer  in  command  was  the  sam^  I  have 
already  mentioned  that  the  young  man  had  seen  while 
upon  his  brief  visit  to  the  island  of  Cuba. 

"  i  Hark  ye,  my  lad  !  '  he  at  length  roughly  said,  as 
his  prisoner  was  expressing  his  indignation.  *  It  is  very 
lucky  for  you  that  the  captain  marked  you  safe  for 
this  trip,  in  the  log-book,  or  '  —  here  he  uttered  a  fierce 
oath  —  '  you  might  count  on  it,  that  I  should  make  short 
work  with  you.  At  any  rate,  if  not  I,  I  can  promise 
you  that  yonder  blue-fins  should.'  In  making  this 

239 


240  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE;. 

menace,  he  extended  his  finger,  pointing  significantly 
in  the  direction  where,  from  time  to  time,  three  or  four 
sharks  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel  might  be  seen  glan 
cing  through  the  limpid  waves  in  the  gorgeous  light  of 
the  morning  sun  of  the  tropics. 

"  These  huge  and  destructive  fish,  the  tigers  of  the 
ocean,  may  not  unfrequently  be  seen  following  in  the 
course  of  a  sailing  craft,  waiting  for  the  otFai  which 
i  say  be  thrown  out ;  and  woe  to  the  luckless  sailor  who 
may  chance  at  such  times  to  fall  overboard.  There  is 
a  flash  through  the  waters;  the  pale  stomach  of  the 
terrible  fish  glistens  near  the  surface  in  the  light  as  he 
turns  upon  his  side  to  seize  the  victim ;  then  the  huge 
jaws  snap,  and  a  purple  streak  appears  on  the  glittering 
waves,  which  gradually  widens.  Perchance  the  scream 
of  a  dying  man  has  been  heard,  and  perhaps  not ;  but 
all  is  over. 

"  Consequently  the  threat  was  by  no  means  a  pleas 
ant  one,  and  what  with  the  young  man's  passionate  re 
grets  for  his  enforced  absence  from  his  betrothed,  and 
Ms  indignation  with  his  employer,  he  passed,  as  may  be 
reasonably  supposed,  a  remarkably  unpleasant  six  days 
before  he  arrived  at  his  destination. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  his  disappearance  had  awakened 
suspicion ;  and  although  M.  Lessaix  had  joined  actively 
in  the  search  for  him,  and  loudly  in  the  protestations 
Qf  sorrow  and  regret  raised  throughout  the  city,  in 


SHARKS   AND    PIRATES.  2-11 

which  young  Bulwer  was  much  liked,  he  could  not  do 
away  with  Mr.  Bishop's  belief  that  he  was  implicated 
in  it.  Luckily  a  vessel  was  in  port  at  the  time  in  which 
Mr.  Bishop  owned,  in  conjunction  with  an  American 
firm,  one  part.  It  was  a  very  rapid  sailer,  and  was 
tolerably  heavily  armed.  There  was  in  addition  an 
American  frigate,  at  the  time,  which  was  known  to  be 
lying  off  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  for  the  purpose 
of  protecting  the  commerce  of  the  young  republic 
from  the  piracy  in  the  gulf.  To  the  captain  of  this 
frigate,  the  English  consul  wrote  a  strong  letter,  repre 
senting  the  fact  that  an  American  citizen  had  been 
abducted  from  New  Orleans,  and,  as  he  believed,  by 
one  of  the  most  notorious  pirates  then  infesting  those 
waters,  commonly  known  as  Capt.  Jacques  Torreau. 
He  acknowledged  that  he  could  not  prove  M.  Lessaix 
and  Jacques  Torreau  to  be  one  and  the  same  person. 
He,  however,  strongly  suspected  this  to  be  the  case. 
In  consequence,  he  jirgently  begged  the  American  cap 
tain  to  co-operate  with  him  in  following  M.  Lessaix 
should  he  leave  New  Orleans,  stating,  that,  otherwise, 
he  should  be  compelled  to  follow  him  himself,  with 
only  the  vessel  to  which  I  have  already  alluded. 

"  This  letter  he  sent  down  the  river  by  a  pilot-vessel, 
with  orders  to  cruise  until  it  found  the  frigate. 

"As   Providence   dictated    that   it   should   be,   the 
frigate  was   encountered  immediately  off  the  eastern 


212  THE   PRA1BIK   CUUSOE. 

channel  in  the  Balize;  nor  was  this  answer  of  the 
captain  other  than  it  might  have  been  supposed  any 
American  official  would  have  returned  in  a  similar  case. 

"  Meanwhile  Mr.  Bishop  increased  the  crew  of  his 
own  vessel,  and  armed  them  as  well  as  he  could,  by 
night,  in  order  to  awaken  no  suspicion. 

"  Spies  were  also  disposed  in  the  houses  around  the 
dwelling  and  counting-house  of  M.  Lessaix. 

"  Eight  nights  after,  the  French  governor  having  in 
the  interval  done  nothing  to  assist  their  anxiety,  word 
was  brought  the  English  consul  that  M.  Lessaix  was 
passing  the  night  in  his  counting-house. 

"Immediately  he  sent  orders  to  his  own  vessel  to 
weigli  anchor,  and  drop  quietly  down  the  river,  leaving 
its  largest  boat  with  a  full  complement  of  men,  well- 
armed,  under  the  levee  some  hundred  yards  below  the 
Frenchman's  warehouse.  In  this  boat,  he  placed  his 
eldest  son,  Arthur  Bishop,  as  his  official  position  neces 
sarily  precluded  him  from  taking  any  active  share  in 
the  business. 

"It  was  about  half-past  eleven  o'clock  that  Capt. 
Jacques  Torreau,  for  it  would  be  useless  any  longer  to 
continue  calling  him  by  his  other  name,  entered  the 
boat  which  had  been  waiting  for  him,  and,  following 
the  main  channel  of  the  river,  quitted  New  Orleans  for- 
ever. 

"Probably,  froii   his   complicity   with   the    Freucb 


SHARKS   AND    PIRATES.  243 

governor  of  Louisiana,  or  his  subordinate  officials,  SO1 
long  carried  out,  Capt.  Torreau  had  become  careless. 
However  this  may  have  been,  from  the  time  at  which 
he  had  quitted  the  city,  he  evidently,  from  all  accounts^ 
did  not  make  the  slightest  attempt  to  disguise  his 
movements,  until  upon  reaching  the  schooner  which 
was  in  waiting  for  him  at  one  of  the  numerous  mouths 
of  the  Mississippi,  and  seeing  the  signals  made  by  order 
of  Mr.  Bishop's  son  to  the  American  frigate,  which  was 
lying  at  no  great  distance  in  the  offing,  he  saw  that  he 
was  pursued,  and  in  another  half-hour  would  have 
fallen  into  the  trap  which  had  been  prepared  for  him. 

"From  this  moment, he  put  forth  all  the  resources  of 
his  seamanship,  which,  as  young  Bishop,  himself  a  good 
practical  sailor,  and  the  American  captain  afterwards 
told  Mr.  Bulwer,  were,  beyond  any  doubt,  very  thor 
ough. 

"  But  I  have  to  return  to  the  prisoner.  The  place 
of  detention  destined  for  him  was  beyond  a  lonely 
patch  of  swampy  land  at  the  western  end  of  San  Do 
mingo.  Having  shipped  her  topmasts,  and  lowered  her 
yards,  the  vessel  was  almost  entirely  hidden  by  the 
dense  and  luxuriant  vegetation  surrounding  the  small 
creek  into  which  she  had  entered.  He  himself  was 
then  landed,  and  hurried  off  some  two  miles  into  th$ 
interior,  with  a  polite  request  from  his  former  acqu  lint- 
unce  not  to  attempt  an  escape. 


241  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

"'Otherwise,'  said  his  very  plain-spoken  friend,  '1 
shall  be  compelled  to  check  your  runaway  tendency 
with  a  leaden  messenger.' 

£D 

"  I  need  scarcely  say  that  such  an  intimation,  coupled 
with  his  complete  ignorance  of  the  localities,  or  the 
very  name  of  his  place  of  imprisonment,  gave  his  guard 
an  ample  security  for  his  remaining  in  his  custody. 

"  They  at  length  arrived  at  a  small  house,  which,  he 
was  told,  belonged  to  a  Spanish  planter.  It  was 
built  in  the  style  then  and  now  so  common  in  the 
West  Indies.  The  dwelling  consisted  of  one  story, 
surrounding  a  large  court-yard.  Windows,  extending 
from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor,  were  in  all  the  rooms. 
But  those  in  the  room  which  was  given  to  him  were 
protected,  or  rather  secured,  by  long  iron  bars,  as  are 
those  in  the  lower  floors  of  the  houses  in  Havana.  As 
it  afterwards  turned  out,  this  rancho,  as  it  was  called, 
belonged  to  his  old  employer,  who  here  enjoyed  a  third 
name. 

"  Here  he  remained  for  over  nineteen  days,  not  being 
allowed  to  quit  his  room  during  that  period. 

"At  the  end  of  this  time,  he  was  awaked  in  the  night 
from  his  slumbers  (for,  since  his  abduction,  he  had  slept 
very  lightly)  by  the  distant  sound  of  a  cannonade.  It 
was  one  of  those  bright,  clear,  tropical  moonlights,  in 
which  every  thing  within  the  circle  of  the  moon's  radi 
ance  ;s  distinctly  visible;  and,  beyond  the  dense  and 


SHARKS    AND    PIRATES.  245 

jungly  growth  on  the  shore,  he  saw  a  smaL  schooner 
endeavoring  to  escape  to  the  sea,  from  the  guns  of 
a  frigate  and  a  smaller  vessel,  which  were  driving 
her  towards  the  coast.  How  he  knew  it,  he  confessed 
that  he  was  unable  to  say,  as  the  distance  must  have 
rendered  it  impossible  for  the  naked  eye  to  detect  the 
colors  of  the  frigate.  Nevertheless,  Mr.  Bulwer  was 
confident  that  the  colors  of  that  ship  were  his  own  na 
tional  stars  and  stripes;  and,  falling  upon  his  knees, he 
prayed  long  and  fervently  that  Providence  would  ena 
ble  her  to  release  him.  Strangely  enough,  he  seemed 
never  for  one  instant  to  have  doubted  that  this  was 
the  object  of  her  commander. 

"When  he  arose,  the  vessel  had  disappeared  behind 
a  wooded  knoll,  on  the  right  of  the  creek. 

"He,  however,  still  saw  the  smoke  of  the  cannonade, 
and  heard  the  hoarse  thunder  of  the  guns,  apparently 
much  nearer,  until  just  before  daybreak.  At  this  time, 
the  sky  had  become  considerably  darker,  as  it  very 
commonly  does  in  southern  latitudes,  and  he  saw  the 
whole  horizon  suddenly  illuminated  with  a  reddish 
light.  At  the  same  moment,  a  broad,  white  mass  of 
pyramidal  flame  rose  momentarily  beyond  the  knoll, 
which  disappeared  in  a  dense  canopy  of  smoke.  It 
was  followed  by  the  terrible  report  of  an  explosion, 
which  shook  the  beams  and  rafters  of  the  house  in 
which  he  was  imprisoned,  as  if  it  had  been  an  earth- 


240  THE  PRAIRIE  CRUSOE. 

quake  Scarcely  five  minutes  had  elapsed  when  a 
second  explosion  took  place.  This  time,  it  came  from 
the  creek;  and  Mr.  Bulwer  at  once  felt  certain  that 
his  friends  had  won  a  complete  victory. 

"By  what  instinct  he  knew  not,  but  he  rushed  to  the 
door,  and  attempted  to  tear  it  open.  To  his  astonish 
ment,  it  yielded  readily  to  his  efforts.  It  is  probable 
that  the  somewhat  slight  building  had  been  so  shaken 
by  the  force  of  the  two  explosions,  that  the  heavy  bolt 
of  the  lock  had  already  partially  been  forced  from  its 
hold.  However  this  may  have  been,  he  paused  not  to 
inquire,  but,  dashing  it  hurriedly  open,  rapidly  de 
scended  towards  the  creek. 

"  In  his  wild  hurry,  he  thought  of  nothing  but  es 
cape,  until  he  found  himself  amongst  a  mass  of  blas 
pheming  and  struggling  men,  beyond  which,  in  the 
breaking  morning -light,  he  saw  the  face  of  young 
Bishop. 

"With  a  loud  cry  of  joy,  he  sprung  towards  him, 
and,  in  a  moment  afterwards,  fell  to  the  ground  with  a 
shot  through  his  right  side. 

O  o  & 

"His  subsequent  brother-in-law  told  him  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  when  his  youthful  vitality  had 
returned  sufficiently  from  the  prostrating  effect  of  the 
wound  to  enable  him  to  converse,  that  this  shot  had 
been  fired  by  Jacques  Barbier.  This,  however,  Mr, 
Bulwer  would  never  believe. 


SHARKS   AND   PIRATES. 

« '  And  what  became  of  him  ?'   I  asked. 
" '  He  died  the  same  night.' 
«'How?' 

«'He  was  killed  within  five  minutes  from  my  receiv 
ing  my  wound.' 

«I  was  about  to  have  asked  him,  'By  whom?'   but 
the  look  of  pah   I  saw  upon  my  old  friend's  face  an 
swered  my  question,  and  I  forbore.      He  could  not 
altogether    forget    the    French    buccaneer's    previous 
kindness  to  him ;   and'Eugene  Lessaix,  alias  Jacques 
Barbier,  alias  somebody  else,  had  been  shot  down  by 
Mr.  Bulwer's  present  brother-in-law.     Ill  as  I  might 
think  of  the  dead  man,  let  me  own,  that  I  felt  this 
touch   of  human    affection  ripen  my  respect  for  him 
who  felt  it,  into  something  akin  to  veneration;    and 
when,  that  night,  I  bent  over,  and  kissed  his  hand,  as  I 
retired  to  rest,  I  felt  that  Providence  had  placed  me 
with  an  upright  and  kindly  man,  whose  gentle  wis 
dom  might  look  after  'my  out-jroinffs  and  in-comings' 
greatly  to  my  advantage. 

«  On  the  next  morning,  I  decided  upon  abandoning 
my  proposed  intention  to  visit  New  Orleans ;  not  from 
any  fear  of  its  results  to  myself,  but  from  my  dislike  to 
cause  my  good  friend  any  increase  of  anxiety  upon  my 
account," 


CHAPTER   XXXT. 

FAREWELL   TO   LEWIS. MY    DEPARTURE    FOR   EUROPP. 

"!T  was  some  four  years  subsequently  that  I  found 
myself  so  prosperous,  that  I  was  wealthy  enough  to 
follow  out  my  own  inclinations.  These  led  me  to  re 
turn  to  Europe,  and  once  again  to  look  upon  my  dear 
native  land.  Accordingly,  I  spoke  of  my  proposed 
plan  to  Mr.  Bulwer. 

"  He  listened  to  me  with  deep  pain.  Yet  the  gener 
ous  and  feeling  heart  of  one  who  had  been  almost  a 
father  to  me  would  not  permit  him  to  make  any  op 
position. 

"  But  I  had  one  friend  to  whose  kindly  aid,  and,  in 
no  small  degree,  to  whose  initiation  of  me  into  the 
life  of  the  prairies,  I,  in  great  part,  owed  my  fortune; 
and  I  felt  that  I  must  not  leave  the  country  without 
embracing  him,  and  once  more  looking  upon  his 
bronzed  cheek,  and  frank  and  earnest  eye.  Accord- 

249 


-50  THE   PRAIRIE    CRUSOE. 

ingly,  I  went  to  pass  a  few  days  with  Lewis,  whom  1 
Lad  frequently  seen  when  he  came,  once  a  year,  to  the 
city,  for  the  purpose  of  settling  his  accounts  with  his 
and  my  good  friend ;  for  such  Mr.  Bulwer  had  been 
from  the  first  hour  in  which  we  met  him. 

"  On  my  Celling  him  that  it  was  my  purpose  to  re- 
turn  to  Germany,  he  was  deeply  affected.  He,  how 
ever,  did  not  say  much.  His  lonely  life  on  the  prairies 
had  accustomed  him  to  repress  his  feelings ;  and  this 
habit  was  comparatively  unchanged  by  his  recent  more 
common  contact  with  his  white  brethren. 

"'Well,'  he  said,  'I  suppose  it  is  natural  that  you 
should  go  back,  and  leave  me  here.  You  have  young 
friends,  not  having  yet  grown  out  of  the  age  of  young 
friendships.  When  you  again  see  them,  you  will  very 
soon  forget  that  the  old  trapper  Lewis  ever  existed.' 

"  I  assured  him  that  he  did  me  wrong,  and  that  my 
memory  was  not  one  that  would  prove  forgetful  of  my 
friends,  especially  of  one  who  had  stood  by  me,  and  at 
whose  side  I  had  stood,  in  so  many  hours  of  danger. 
Tin-owing  myself  upon  his  neck,  I  do  not  feel  ashamed 
to  say  that  I  literally  wept.  As  for  Lewis,  disengaging 
himself  from  my  embrace,  he  sat  down  on  the  stump 
of  a  lately  felled  tree,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 
When  he  looked  up,  his  brow  was  settled  again,  and  he 
turned  to  me,  saying,  — 

" '  Let  us  wander  out  upon  the  prairie  for  the  next 


FAREWELL   TO   LEWIS,    ETC.  251 

six  or  seven  hours.  It  is  but  a  tame  spot  compared  to 
those  wilds  which  we  have  travelled  through  ;  but  we 
shall  remember  something  of  the  past,  when  we  were 
fast  brothers,  and  first  stood  side  by  side.' 

"So  saying,  he  rose;  and,  taking  our  rifles,  we 
wandered  forth.  We  were  absent  for  three  days  from 
the  post. 

"  On  the  last  day,  I  told  Lewis,  that  now,  when  he 
was  settling  down,  he  ought  to  give  himself  a  wife, 
and  surround  himself  with  a  family.  We  were  then 
standing  on  the  summit  of  a  small  knoll,  just  within 
sight  of  the  station. 

"  Lewis  smiled  grimly. 

"'Who,'  he  asked,  'would  think  of  wedding  a 
scarred  and  weather-beaten  trapper,  who  could  not 
say  soft  words,  and  to  whom  a  woman's  heart  was  like 
an  untrodden  prairie  that  he  had  never  yet  crossed.' 

"'On  the  prairie,'  I  replied,  'you  and  I,  and  men 
like  us,  can  always  travel.  The  North  star  is  a  sure 
guide.  We  know  east  and  west  by  the  rising  and  set 
ting  sun.  There  are  guides  that  will  lead  you  to  •» 
woman's  heart  as  surely;  and,  were  I  of  your  age, 
L'jwis,  it  should  not  be  long  ere  I  followed  them.' 

"A  strange  laugh  broke  from  his  lips  when  I  said 
this,  and  we  returned  together  to  his  dwelling. 

"  It  was  late  that  night  when  we  sought  our  slumbers; 
and  my  last  words  to  him,  on  wrapping  my  blanket 


'-52  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

around  me,  were,  that  my  love  for  him  should  never  be 
forgotten,  and  that,  chance  what  might,  I  should  never 
fail  to  pray  for  God's  blessing  on  him,  and,  I  should  hope, 
on  his. 

"'Amen!'  was  Lewis's  brief  answer,  as  he  flung 
himself  on  his  own  resting-place,  and  composed  him 
self  to  slumber. 

"  The  following  day  I  pressed  his  hand  for  the  last 
time,  and,  before  the  sun  had  risen  for  one  hour,  was 
already  several  miles  upon  my  return. 

"Afterwards  I  heard  from  Mr.  Bulwer,  who  was  a 
tolerably  faithful  correspondent  for  many  years,  that 
Lewis  had  followed  my  advice.  About  a  year  after  my 
departure,  he  took  to  himself  a  wife.  It  was  an  Indian 
woman  whom  he  wedded,  and  one  who  turned  out  a 
most  excellent  helpmate  to  him.  lie  bought  a  good-si/ed 
farm  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louie,  and  gave  him 
self  up  entirely  to  its  cultivation  and  to  the  rearing  of 
his  two  children,  who,  together  with  the  frank  and  fear- 
less  brow  of  their  father,  inherited  the  black  hair  and 
deep-toned  eyes  of  their  mother's  race. 

"  Occasionally  he  will  make  a  month's  excursion  to 
his  old  hunting-grounds;  but,  with  this  exception,  he  is 
what  the  Americans  would  call  a  thoroughly  good 
settler. 

"On  my  return  to  St. Louis,  I  industriously  occupied 
myself  in  making  the  preparations  for  my  departure, 


FAREWELL   TO   LEWIS,    ETC.  253 

But,  as  the  day  drew  near  for  me  to  leave  Mr.  Bulwer, 
I  must  honestly  say,  my  courage  almost  failed  me. 
That  good  man  and  his  dear  wife  could  not,  like  Lewis, 
maintain  a  control  over  their  features.  Indeed,  Mrs. 
Bulwer's  sorrow  was  so  evident,  that  once  or  twice  I 
was  nearly  on  the  point  of  breaking  my  resolution  to 
leave  them.  On  the  very  morning  of  my  departure, 
when  Mrs.  Bulwer  embraced  me,  her  husband,  taking 
my  "hand,  said  a  few  words  which  almost  turned  my 
purpose. 

"  '  Go,  my  young  friend !  May  the  Lord  be  with  you, 
and  bless  you  in  all  you  purpose  or  undertake !  Re 
member,  that,  should  misfortune  ever  overtake  you  in 
your  native  country,  you  have  friends  here  who  will 
receive  you  with  gladness.  While  we  live,  our  affection 
can  never  forget  you.' 

The  good  man's  eyes  fairly  filled  with  tears,  as  he 
spoke,  and  his  wife  cried  heartily. 

« But  at  last  the  love  of  home,  and  my  affectionate 
remembrance  of  the  baron  and  Stanislas,  prevailed;, 
and,  quitting  the  friends  who  had  been  so  kind  to  me,  I 
went  on  board  the  vessel  in  which  I  had  engaged  my 
passage. 

"The  trip  down  the  river  offered  little  that  was 
remarkable,  and  I  was  soon  at  New  Orleans.  Here  I 
remained  but  a  few  days,  so  impatient  was  I  to  return 
to  Europe,  and  was  soon  on  the  route  to  Freuden- 
stadt." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MY    KKTUBN. THE    BARON. 

"Mr  voyage  was,  in  every  respect,  an  agreeable  one 
although  I  could  only  long  for  its  termination,  so  desir 
ous  was  I  to  arrive  at  my  old  home.  It  was  a  bright  and 
balmy  morning  in  the  month  of  June  when  we  at  length 
reached  Hamburg,  after  a  passage  of  forty^three  days  ; 
and,  in  my  eagerness  once  more  to  look  upon  the  faces 
vhich  had  been  so  beloved,  immediately  after  the  for 
malities  connected  with  my  passport  were  ended,  I 
employed  a  servant  connected  with  the  principal  hotel 
to  procure  me  a  carriage.  In  about  half  an  hour,  it  was 
standing  at  the  door,  and  I  at  once  started. 

"  Wishing  to  enjoy  the'  surprise  of  the  baron,  I  had 
not  announced  my  return  to  him. 

"It  would  be  almost  impossible  for  me  to  describe 
the  emotion  I  felt  as  I  at  length  drew  near  to  Freu- 
denstadt.  Here  was  *•  turn  on  the  road ;  there  it  crossed 

255 


250  THE    PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

a  little  stream  by  a  rude  wooden  bridge,  which  had,  in 
rny  childhood,  appeared  to  me  so  large  ai  d  magnificent 
a  structure;  here  was  the  country  forge,  at  which  I 
so  well  remember  Smith  Hans  striking  with  his  heavy 
hammer  the  red  and  glowing  iron ;  and  there,  at 
length,  were  the  trees,  whose  rich  green  foliage  con 
cealed  the  walls  of  Wolfenstein.  A  few  yards  more, 
and  I  saw  its  fine  old  walls,  and  its  windows  glittering 
under  its  battlements  in  the  yellow  sunlight.  My  heart 
beat  violently.  Unable  to  control  my  feelings,  I  stopped 
the  driver.  Action  was  necessary  to  me  to  alleviate  the 
violence  of  my  emotion.  So  I  preferred  to  quit  the 
carriage,  and  walk  on,  giving  him  directions  to  drive 
on  by  the  road,  and  await  me  at  the  village. 

"Every  tree  and  every  little  knoll  by  which  I  passed 
recalled  some  adventure  of  my  youth. 

"Here  I  had  leaped  or  run  with  Stanislas.  There 
I  had  climbed  the  knotted  stem  of  an  old  oak  to  get  a 
bird's-nest  for  little  Bertha.  A  little  farther  on  was  the 
path  which  I  had  so  often  trodden  from  the  humblo 
home  of  my  foster-father,  in  the  direction  of  the  castle. 
As  I  reflected  on  his  love  for  me,  and  remembered  that 
he  was  no  longer  living  to  welcome  me,  my  thoughts 
involuntarily  saddened.  Yes:  perhaps  I  was  now  to 
learn  some  new  grief.  What  might  not  time  and  sor 
row  have  wrought  in  the  baron's  once  happy  household  ! 

"  Why  is  it,  that,  at  the  very  moment  <  f  expected 


MY    RETURN. — THE   BARON.  257 

happiness,  the  heart  always  feels  some  unwelcome 
thought  intruding  its  fear  and  sadness  upon  it?  I  can 
only  say  that  mine  was  bitterly  tried  with  these  gloomy 
forebodings. 

"  However,  I  continued  my  way,  and  was  soon  close 
to  the  entrance  gate,  which  stood,  as  it  had  usually 
done  in  the  olden  days,  hospitably  open.  Leaning 
against  the  wall,  I  felt  almost  unable  to  proceed  farther. 

"A  servant  who  was  passing  through  the  hall,  and 
who  appeared  astonished  at  my  troubled  appearance, 
advanced  towards  me,  and  politely  inquired  what  I 
needed.  My  tongue  could  barely  stammer  out  the 
name  of  the  baron.  He  must  probably  have  thought 
that,  in  spite  of  my  dress,  I  was  an  applicant  for  assist 
ance;  for,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  although  somewhat 
patronizingly,  he  said, — 

"'If  the  gentleman  will  come  with  me,  I  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  announcing  him.' 

"With  these  words,  he  led  me  towards  the  library. 
At  the  door  he  paused. 

"'What  name,'  he  inquired,  'shall  I  have  the  honor 
of  announcing?' 

"My  answer  to  him  was,  'I  will  announce  myself.' 
Pushing  the  astonished  domestic  aside,  I  accordingly 
opened  the  door,  and  advanced  into  the  apartment. 

"  For  a  moment,  the  baron  turned  from  the  book  ho 
had  been  reading,  in  one  of  the  deeply  embrasured  win- 
17 


258  THE   PRATRTE   CRUSOE. 

dows,  and  looked  at  me  ivith  some  surprise,  not  un« 
mixed  with  a  trifle  of  annoyance,  at  being  so  uncere 
moniously  intruded  upon.  In  the  next  instant,  he  had 
risen,  and  advanced  towards  me.  He  was  far  from 
u-<  ognizing  me,  and  inquired  simply  in  what  manner 
lie  'might  serve  me.'  Nor  was  there  any  wonder  thru 
this  was  so.  The  child  to  whom  he  had  bidden  'fare 
well  '  some  ten  years  earlier  was  now  a  tall,  bronzed, 
and  bearded  man  of  twenty-six  years  of  age,  yet  look 
ing  some  five  or  six  years  older.  My  memory,  how 
ever,  was  more  faithful.  I  remembered  the  handsome 
ind  stately  features  on  which  those  ten  years  had 
scarcely  yet  traced  an  additional  wrinkle.  Neither 
had  the  hair  perceptibly  whitened ;  although,  as  he 
laughingly  told  me  subsequently,  there  were  streaks 
of  gray  in  it,  which  made  him  avoid  strong  light  when 
he  found  himself  in  the  society  of  ladies,  who  might 
possibly  take  him  for  his  son's  elder  brother. 

""This,  nevertheless,  occurred  afterwards.  I  was 
too  deeply  moved  to  utter  a  single  word. 

«  The  baron  saw  my  trouble,  and,  as  he  informed  me 
later  in  the  evening,  sharing  the  error  of  his  domestic, 
addressed  me  in  an  even  kinder  tone  than  he  had  pre 
viously  done,  reiterating  his  former  question. 

"  It  was  impossible  any  longer  to  control  myself. 

"  Overcome  by  my  emotion,  half-blinded  by  my  tears 
of  joy,  scarcely  able,  through  my  sobs,  to  utter  the 


MY  RETURN. — THE   BARON.  2f>9 

words  that  shaped  themselves  tremblingly  upon  my 
tongue,  I  threw  myself  into  his  arms,  asking  him 
whether  he  no  longer  recognized  the  little  William 
whom  he  had  once  so  loved. 

"The  voice  seemed  to  touch  one  of  the  memories 
that  nothing  in  my  personal  appearance  could  possibly 
do. 

"  Thrusting  me  from  him,  he  gazed  into  my  face ; 
and  through  my  speech  something  had  been  given  him 
on  which  memory  could  build  the  bridge  which  should 
unite  the  present  with  the  past. 

"Again  he  embraced  me,  or  rather  did  so  in  turn 
(for  I  must  own  that  the  (];•..{  embrace  had  been  entirely 
upon  my  part)  ;  and  after  one  or  two  broken  exclama 
tions  of  pleasure,  which  lie  did  not  attempt  to  restrain, 
he  turned  to  the  servant,  who  was  standing  wide- 
mouthed  in  his  surprise  and  astonishment  by  the  open 
door,  and  despatched  him  to  seek  for  Stanislas." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


MIT    FIRST    DAY   AT    FREUDENSTADT. 

"  IT  need  scarcely  be  stated,  that  on  his  way  to  the 
stables  for  the  purpose  of  saddling  a  horse,  that  ho 
might  follow  Stanislas,  who  had  departed  in  the  morn 
ing  for  a  day's  sport  (game  was  plentiful  on  the  baron's 
estates),  the  domestic  took  occasion  to  tell  the  rest  of 
the  household,  that  the  little  William,  of  whom  he  had 
long  since  heard  amongst  the  elder  ones  of  them,  had 
returned.  Accordingly,  in  a  few  moments,  while  wait 
ing  at  the  side  of  the  baron,  I  saw  the  faces  of  the  old 
butler,  and  three  or  four  of  the  principal  servants,  ap 
pearing  at  the  doorway.  Their  respect  for  their  master 
I  re  vented  them  from  entering  the  library  unbidden.  I 
was  accordingly  advancing  towards  them,  when  the 
baron  laid  his  hand  upon  my  arm,  and  restrained  me, 
bidding  them  to  come  in. 

"'Here,'  he  said,  'is  the  long  absent  prodigal  re* 

Ml 


262  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

turned,  my  friends.  Judging  by  his  looks  and  hu 
size,  it  may  be  said  that  travel  has,  at  any  rate,  im 
proved  his  body,  May  the  Lord  grant  that  his  mind 
and  heart  have  improved  with  his  stature,  as  I  little 
doubt  that  they  have,'  added  the  baron,  looking  at 
me  with  the  old,  familiar  and  benign  kindness,  which 
I  so  well  remembered,  and  pressing  my  hand  warmly, 
which  he  had  taken  in  his  own. 

"  After  returning  the  cordial  pressure  which  he  gave 
me,  I  turned,  and  received  the  hearty  congratulations 
of  the  domestics  who  remembered  me ;  interchanging  a 
few  words  with  all  of  them. 

"  While  I  was  thus  occupied,  a  young  lady  entered 
the  room.  It  was  Bertha. 

"  Running  towards  me,  she  extended  both  her  hands 
eagerly. 

" '  Dear  William ! '  she  began. 

"Then  she  stopped.  A  rosy  blush  suffused  her 
cheeks,  and  the  broad  lids  sank  over  her  clear,  blue 
eyes.  She  was  far  more  beautiful  than  my  imagina 
tion  or  memory  had  ever  painted  her;  and  the  tender 
confusion  which  had  checked  her  utterance  to  the  old 
playmate  who  had  grown  almost  out  of  recollection, 
even  added  to  her  loveliness. 

" '  Have  you  nothing  else  to  say  to  the  old  fi-iend  of 
your  babyhood,  my  child  ? '  asked  her  father. 

"  She  did  not  reply.    As  for  myself  let  me  own  that 


MY   FIRST   DAY   AT    FIIEUDENSTADT.  2Go 

a  strange  diffidence  also  held  me  speechless.  Her 
beauty,  which  I  confess  I  had  not  expected  to  find  so 
exquisitely  lovely,  completely  oppressed  my  sense,  and 
disabled  me  from  finding  a  word. 

"  <  And  you,  too,  William !  Are  you  dumb  ? '  jestingly 
inquired  the  baron. 

"  Bertha,  who  had  now  recovered,  lifted  her  face  to 
mine;  and,  stooping  towards  her,  I  pressed  a  timid 
salute  with  my  feverish  lips  upon  her  brow,  without 
uttering  a  word. 

« This  produced  a  laugh  from  her  father,  who  said 
that  he  had  rarely  seen  so  cold  a  meeting  between  two 
old  playmates.  The  observation  only  added  to  our 
mutual  confusion.  For  myself,  I  was  oppressed  with 
a  deeper,  yet  more  tender  fear  than  any  which  I  had 
experienced  in  my  past  ten  years  of  adventure.  At 
this  moment  the  gallop  of  a  horse  was  heard  without 
the  castle.  The  next  moment  the  hoofs  of  the  animal 
were  heard  in  the  castle  court-yard,  and  a  voice,  which, 
though  now  fuller  and  manlier  in  its  tone,  I  well  re 
membered,  and  had  remembered  in  every  changing 
Bcere  of  my  Western  life,  rung  on  my  hearing. 
" '  Where  is  he  ? ' 

"  It  was  the  voice  of  Stanislas.  My  emb  irrassment 
tvas,  for  the  moment,  completely  done  away  wi  h. 
Springing  towards  the  doorway,  forgetful  at  the  in 
stant,  both  of  the  baron  and  Bertha,  I  was  the  next 


264  THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

minute  embraced  by  the  vigorous  arms  of  the  fino 
young  man,  who  had  bounded  up  the  stairs  as  I 
emerged  through  the  door. 

'"Can  this  be  William,— little  William,'  he  inquired, 
'  this  huge  mass  of  bone,  sinew,  and  muscle  ?  I  shall 
have  to  look  to  my  own  laurels  as  a  sportsman, 
when  I  follow  the  game  with  such  a  competitor  near 
me.' 

"  While  looking  at  him,  I  thought  I  had  never  seen 
a  nobler  and  more  vigorous  specimen  of  young  and 
hale  manhood.  His  face  was  almost  unchanged,  save 
for  the  tawny  mustache  which  covered  the  upper 
lip.  The  eyes  danced  wiih  the  same  merry  life,  al 
though  somewhat  soberer  in  their  expression ;  and  his 
frame  was  marked  by  the  same  athletic  and  noble  pro 
portions  which  distinguished  that  of  his  sire.  Again 
and.  again  we  embraced.  We  each  recalled  a  thousand 
incidents  of  our  childhood.  He  took  me  to  his  own 
chamber,  and  showed  me  the  trappings  of  the  Indian 
warrior,  which  I  had  sent  him  years  since.  These  were 
symmetrically  disposed,  in  the  form  of  a  trophy,  be 
tween  the  two  large  windows  at  the  end  of  the  apart 
ment. 

" '  The  chamber  is  locked  up,'  said  Stanislas,  '  when 
I  am  away  from  Wolfenstein.  When  here,  I  let  no 
one  touch  them  but  myself.  The  horse  you  sent  me 
was  a  noble  animal.  But  he  is  dead,''  he  added  grave- 


MY    FIRST   DAY    AT   FREUDENSTADT. 


265 


1V.    *He  saved  my  life,  and  I  rewarded  him  *ith  a 
tombstone  at  the  place  where  he  did  so.' 

"On   my  inquiring  into  the  particulars,  it  seei 
that  Stanislas  had  been  hunting  the  wild  boar,  whilo 
on  a  visit  to  some  friends  in  Tlmringia,  and  had  been 
thrown  from  William's  back  (he  had  given  the  horse 
my  name),  not  by  any  fault  of  the  animal,  but  by  his 
own,  as  he  said.    The  boar,  which  lie  had  wounded 
tore  this  with  his  rifle,  made  a  charge  directly- at  him. 
for  the  purpose  of  ripping  him  up  with  his  tusks,  when 
'the  noble  brute'  (I  use  the  words  Stanislas  employed) 
'rushed  between  us,  and  endeavored  to  seize  the  boar 
with  its  teeth.     It  was  a  vain  attempt.     The  tusks  of 
the  boar  entered  its  sides.     I,  however,  had  now  risen, 
and  with  my  lance  avenged  my  brave  preserver.     As  I 
saw  the  dying  look  of  love  for  its  master  in  its  eyes,  I 
could  not  help  thinking,  that,  had  my  friend  been  with 
me,  he  would  have  been  to  the  full  as  ready  to  sacrifice 
his  life  for  mine.' 

"As  I  pressed  the  hand  of  Stanislas,  he  knew  that  I 

would  have  done  so. 

"Great  rejoicings  were  held  that  night  by  the  farm 
ers  of  the  domain,  over  the  lost  friend  (for  so  I  might, 
without  impropriety,  call  myseli),  who  had  "been  found 

again. 

"After  these  were  terminated,  I  sat  up  late,  recount 
ing  the  history  of  my  various  adventures  to  the  baron 


266 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 


and  Stanislas,  as  well  as  to  Bertha,  who  had  petitioned 
for  permission  to  remain.  Much  as  I  was  pleased  by 
my  friend's  interest,  and  his  father's,  in  my  narrative, 
let  me  own  that  her  breathless  attention,  and  her  tears 
of  pity,  as  I  told  them  the  various  particulars  of  my 
race  for  life  from  the  Indians,  were  by  far  sweeter  to 
my  feelings.  When  I  at  last  retired  to  my  chamber,  I 
must,  indeed,  frankly  confess  that  my  dreams  were  of 
Bertha's  blue  eyes  and  the  moisture  which  had  dimmed 
them,  rather  than  of  either  of  her  male  relatives." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MY     LOVE     FOK     BERTHA. 

«Ox  the  following  day,  I  rode  out  to  the  chase  \\ith 
Stanislas,  who  was  evidently  somewhat  curious  as  to 
my  actual  skill  as  a  marksman,  and  intended  to  test  it. 

"It  were  needless  for  me  to  recount  how  it  was  that 
he  did  this,  or  to  mention  that  he  returned  with  me  in 
the  evening,  fully  satisfied  that  the  marksmanship  of 
the  American  prairies  is,  at  any  rate,  fully  equal  to  any 
thing  that  can  he  done  by  the  Swiss  or  the  Tyrolese. 
As  for  himself,  he  candidly  owned  that  ho  could  not 
compete  with  me.  When  I  told  him  that  I  had  seen 
Lewis  pass  a  hullet  from  his  rifle  through  the  eye  of  a 
hawk,  when  at  its  full  flight,  some  hundred  yards  .ibove 
us,  he  told  me,  but  that  for  my  affirming  it,  he  would 
not  have  believed  it.  Let  me  say  that  I  could  scarcely 
avoid  laughing  at  his  half  incredulity.  Yet  it  was  very 
natural.  He  had  been  used  to  see  men  fire  whose  lives 

267 


THE   PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

had  not  been  spent  with  a  rifle  on  their  shoulders,- 
men  to  whom  the  weapon  was  simply  a  recreation  or 
a  bread-winner,  not  those  to  whom  it  has  been  for  years 
and  years  the  only  safeguard,  and  perhaps  the  only 
true  friend,— those  to  whose  hands  it  is  as  natural  as 
the  pen  is  to  the  author,  and  the  printed  volume  to  the 
student. 

"  Consequently,  I  did  not  reply  to  him. 
^  "When  we  returned  to  the  castle,  he  was  enthusias 
tic  in  his  praises  of  my  skill;  and  as  I  saw  Bertha's  eyes 
glisten  when  he  spoke  of  my  shooting,  as  something 
marvellous,  I  began  to  encourage  myself  with  the 
hope  that  I  might  not  prove  to  be  so  wholly  beyond 
the  charming  girl's  affections.  Indeed,  an  ambitious 
dream  had  already  awakened  within  me,  which  as  yet 
I  scarcely  dared  to  allow  my  anticipations  to  realize. 

"Several  days  were  given  up  by  me  to  the  pleasures 
of  my  present  condition.  The  presents— furs,  and 
Indian  curiosities  of  every  class  — which  I  had  brought 
home  with  me  arrived  from  Hamburg,  and  were  offered 
to  the  baron  and  Stanislas.  The  most  valuable  set  of 
furs  I,  however,  reserved  for  Bertha. 

"Although  I  felt  somewhat  diffident  in  offering  thc.n 
to  her,  she  felt  even  more  diffident  in  receiving  them. 
As  I  saw  her  blushes,  in  my  own  mind,  1  began  to 
believe  that  I  was  really  not  altogether  an  indifferent 
object  to  her  heart. 


MY  LOVE   FOR   BERTHA. 


269 


"About  two  weeks  after  my  return,  the  baron  tooV 
an  opportunity  to  speak  to  me  about  my  future,  and 
asked  me  what  I  intended  to  do. 

"I  told  him  that  the  Lord  had  abundantly  prospered 
my  exertions  in  the  New  World,  where  I  had  accumu 
lated  a  considerable  fortune,  and  that  it  had  been  my 
intention  to  settle  down  near  my  friends  if  I  could  find 
an  estate  within  my  means.  That  at  present  this 
would  be  dependent  upon  circumstances.  Nursing  a 
hope  which  might  very  probably  bear  me  no  fruit,  it 
would  be  useless  to  count  upon  the  future.  Dearly  as 
I  respected  him  and  loved  Stanislas,  there  was  some 
thing  which  I  scarcely  dared  own  to  him. 

" '  And  what  is  that,  William  ? ' 

"<I  replied  that — 'I  almost  feared  to  tell  him.' 

"If  it  is  any  thing  which  exclusively  concerns  your 
self,'  he  said,  '  I  feel  so  true  an  interest  in  your  welfare, 
that  I  almost  believe  that  I  have  the  right  to  demand 
of  you  that  you  should  tell  me.' 

" « Alas ! '  was  my  reply, '  it  not  only  concerns  me,  but 
yourself  and  Stanislas  also,  very  nearly.' 

"'Then,  my  boy,— indeed,  I  may  almost  call  you  my 
son,  for  such  you  are  by  affection  if  not  by  blood,— I 
have  the  right  to  know  it.' 

"'In  my  confusion,  I  told  him  how  I  had  dared, 
even  in  this  short  space  of  time,  to  learn  to  love 
Bertha.  I  owned  that  I  was  aware  he  might  dislike 


270  THE    PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

the  humility  of  my  extraction.  <  But,'  I  added,  with 
something  like  pride,  'I  have  grown  to  manhood  in 
a  land  where  a  man's  nobility  is  measured  by  the 
stature  of  his  own  soul,  rather  than  by  his  family 
name.  In  America,  the  blood  that  makes  nobility  ia 
out  own.  Perhaps  I  have  acquired  too  much  of  the 
feeling  of  the  race  of  freemen  with  whom  I  have  asso 
ciated.  You  may  not  consider  me  worthy  of  receiving 
the  hand  of  one  of  your  family,  even  though  she  may 
love  me.  If  so,  let  me  go  back  to  the  prairie,  the  trap 
per,  and  the  Indian ;  for  there,  at  least,  I  shall  move 
amongst  men  who  are  only  my  equals.' 

"  I  had  spoken  hurriedly,  although  the  baron  had 
several  times  attempted  to  interrupt  me.  But  my  love, 
when  it  had  for  the  first  time  found  words,  mastered 
me.  Truly,  I  had  not  known  how  overpowering  it 
was ;  for  until  this  moment  I  had  scarcely  had  sufficient 
courage  to  own  it  even  to  myself.  When  I  had,  at  last, 
come  to  a  pause,  the  baron  asked  me  in  a  somewhat 
restrained,  and,  as  I  fancied,  haughty  manner,  'whether 
I  had  yet  spoken  to  his  daughter.' 

"'Certainly  not,'  was  my  answer,  as  I  drew  myself 
indignantly  up  to  my  full  height. 

" '  Then,  if  so,  William,  I  can  only  say  that  you  have 
my  full  permission  to  do  so  whenever  you  may  choose.' 
"  Falling  upon  my  knees,  I  passionately  kissed  his 
hand. 


MY   LOVE   FOR   BEtlTHA.  271 

" '  Mind,'  he  continued,  '  I  do  not  profess  to  be  very 
clever  in  reading  the  minds  of  women.  Be  certain  of 
one  thing,  and  that  is,  although  I  would  have  chosen 
you  myself  for  her  husband,  as  I  know  your  nature  to 
be  true  and  honorable,  I  will  in  no  ways  influence  her, 
A  father  has  no  right  to  wed  his  children  according  to 
his  fancy,  although  he  would  be  perfectly  right  in  re 
straining  them  from  forming  an  unworthy  union.' 

"I  thanked  him  again  and  again  for  his  kindness, 
and  hurried  away  to  seek  for  Bertha. 

"  My  determination  was,  to  avow  my  love  to  her  im 
mediately.  It  must,  however,  be  owned,  that,  before 
I  met  her,  diffidence  had  again  taken  possession  of  me. 
Indeed,  three  months  elapsed  before  I  ventured  upon 
speaking  to  her;  and,  had  it  not  been  for  Stanislas,  I 
should  scarcely  then  have  presumed  to  do  so." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

MY   MARRIAGE. 

a  AT  last,  owing,  as  I  have  already  said,  to  the  inter 
position  and  good  offices  of  my  dear  friend  Stanislas, 
who,  not  being  the  lover,  but  the  brother,  of  Bertha, 
felt  no  bashfulness  whatever  in  the  matter,  the  affair 
was  brought  to  a  crisis. 

"It  was  in  the  library  of  the  castle,  one  morning. 
He  appealed  to  his  sister  to  know  what  spell  she  had 
thrown  over  me. 

" *  When  William  first  came  home,'  he  said, c  he  was 
a  fine  huntsman,  a  better  shot  than  I  am ;  and  no  expo 
sure  or  toil  in  the  pursuit  of  game  could  weary  him. 
His  life  in  the  backwoods  of  America  had  made  his 
muscles  hard  and  strong.  His  eye  was  as  keen  as  that 
of  a  fox,  and  his  ankle  as  springy  as  the  feet  of  the 
chamois  that  I  chased  last  autumn  in  the  Tyrol.  Now 
he  is  slow,  his  voice  has  lost  its  joyous  ring,  and  he 

18  278 


274  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

seems  to  be  always  lost  in  a  dream.  Why,  Bertha, 
surely  you  are  blushing.' 

"She  protested  that  her  brother  was  entirely  mis 
taken. 

" '  Well,  perhaps  so.  But  what  is  the  matter  with 
William,  unless  he  should  be  in  love  ?  Eh !  Why,  Wil 
liam  is  blushing,  —  and  so  are  you  too.  There  is  no 
mistake  about  it  this  time.  So,  my  good  friends,  I 
will  leave  you  to  settle  matters  together ;  for,  really,  I 
am  beginning  to  be  heartily  tired  of  two  lovers  who 
do  not  seem  to  understand  their  own  wishes.' 

"  Saying  this,  he  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  rushed 
out  of  the  library. 

"  Bertha  had  reddened  all  over,  and  would  have  fol 
lowed  him.  Perhaps  I  was  blushing  too,  as  Stanislas 
had  said.  But  if  I  was  (and  I  honestly  suspect  lie  had 
but  stated  the  truth),  my  timidity  did  not  this  time 
prevent  my  taking  advantage  of  the  golden  opportu 
nity  which  he  had  made  for  me. 

"  Following  Bertha,  I  caught  hold  of  her  hand,  and 
led  her  back,  trembling  and  fawn-like,  to  the  window 
which  she  had  just  left. 

"  It  would  be  useless  for  me  to  endeavor  to  recount 
what  passed  between  us,  even  were  I  disposed  to  do 
violence  to  natural  delicacy  by  attempting  to  describe 
it  in  detail.  I  have  felt  no  hesitation  in  putting  into 
writing  the  facts  of  my  varied  life  in  America,  but  luivc 


MY   MAilRIAGE.  275 

certainly  no  wish  to  remove  the  veil  from  the  most 
sacred  and  delightful  hour  I  had  ever  known.  Sudb 
moments  belong  to  ourselves.  Nor  are  we  required  to 
probe  and  examine  them,  when  we  are  transcribing  the 
events  in  our  biography  for  the  casual  reader's  plea 
sure. 

"Sufficient  will  it  be,  if  I  say  that  my  expressions  of 
true  and  fervent  love  were  met  by  Bertha's  tender 
avowal  of  reciprocal  affection ;  and  when  Stanislas  ap 
peared,  some  three  hours  later,  in  the  room,  where  he 
said  that  he  '  came  to  know  whether  we  had  yet  settled 
our  differences  of  opinion,'  we  were  astonished  to  find 
that  we  had  been  alone  in  each  other's  society  more 
than  some  twenty  minutes. 

"  I  told  the  baron,'  he  continued,  c  that  the  two  of 
you  were  very  deeply  engaged  in  discussing  a  matter 
of  natural  history.  He  consequently  refrained  from 
passing  his  afternoon,  as  he  usually  docs,  amongst  his 
books,  and  actually  rode  over  with  me  to  the  new 
plantation.' 

"Ere  he  had  concluded,  Bertha  had  run  from  the 
library,  and  left  me  by  myself  to  bear  the  kind-hearted 
jests  of  my  friend.  I  may  safely  say  that  these  were 
submitted  to  by  me  with  a  very  good  grace  and  pa 
tience,  which  I  may  advance  as  an  example  to  all  who 
have  to  endure  a  similar  affliction. 

"That  evening  I  led   Bertha  to  her  father,  and  told 


276  THE  PRAIRIE   CRUSOE. 

him,  that,  at  last  owing  to  the  absence  of  bashfulness 
on  the  part  of  Stanislas,  I  had  dared  to  plead  my 
cause. 

"'And  I  see,'  he  said,  glancing  at  Bertha,  'that  you 
have  been  successful.  I  give  her  to  you  cheerfully. 
You  have  been  the  architect,  under  the  help  of  Provi 
dence,  of  your  own  fortune.  To  you  I  confide  her 
happiness.' 

"  On  the  following  day,  I  had  a  long  interview  with 
the  baron,  and  told  him  precisely  the  condition  of  my 
aflairs. 

"  By  his  advice,  I  decided  upon  purchasing  the  beau 
tiful  estate  of  Rednitz,  which  was  then  for  sale,  and 
which  adjoined  that  of  Wolfenstein.  The  papers 
transferring  this  property  to  me  were  made  out  some 
three  weeks  later,  after  some  little  difficulty  in  arran 
ging  the  terms  of  purchase  with  its  then  owner. 

"Through  the  baron's  credit  at  court,  I  also  re 
ceived  the  king's  permission  to  bear  the  name  of  the 
domain. 

"  It  was  in  vain,  however,  that  I  begged  the  baron 
lo  allow  me  to  wed  my  charming  Bertha  immediately. 

"He  decided  that  our  marriage  should  take  place 
exactly  one  year  after  my  return  to  my  old  friends,  arid 
insisted  that,  during  the  remaining  months,  I  should 
take  up  my  residence  upon  my  new  estate. 

"Nor  would  he  give  way  in  his  decision,  although 


MY  MARRIAGE.  277 

Stanislas  added  his  entreaties  to  mine,  and  they  were 
strengthened  by  Bertha's  timid  silence. 

"'No,  William.  After  giving  up  my  child  to  you 
in  the  future,  I  have  the  right  to  ask  your  forbearance 
for  the  present,'  he  said.  'She  is  very  young;  and 
you  are  by  no  means '  —  in  saying  this,  he  laughed  — 
*  an  old  man.  You  can  both  of  you  very  well  afford 
to  wait.  Besides,  you  will  be  able  to  see  her  every 
day ;  for  what  are  eleven  miles  to  such  a  daring  horse 
man  and  loving  cavalier  as  you  are  ? ' 

"  So  it  was  settled ;  and  it  was  only  on  the  anniver 
sary  of  my  return,  that  the  baron  gave  my  darling  to 
me  as  my  wife,  and  enabled  me  to  call  myself  one  of 
the  happiest  ?s  well  as  most  fortunate  of  human  be 
ings." 


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land  of  the  rising  sun. 

THE    WONDERFUL    CITY    OF   TOKIO;    or,  The   Further   Ad 

ventures  of  the  Jewett  Family  and  their  Friend  Oto  Nambo 

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THE  BEAR  WORSHIPPERS  OF  YEZO  AND  THE  ISLAND 
OF  KARAFUTO  ;  being  the  further  Adventures  of  the 
Jewett  Family  and  their  Friend  Oto  Nambo 

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OUR   BOYS   IN    INDIA 

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OUR   BOYS    IN    CHINA 

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